GIFT    Or 
JANE  K.SATHER 


BEHIND    THE    SCENES. 


ELIZABETH    KECKLEY. 


BEHIND  THE    SCENES. 


BY 
ELIZABETH    KECKLEY, 

FORMERLY  A  SLAVE,  BUT    MOKE    RECENTLY    MODISTE,  AND  FRIEND  TO   MRS. 
ABRAHAM   LINCOLN. 


OK, 

THIRTY  YEARS  A  SLAVE,  AND  FOUR  YEARS  IN 
THE  WHITE  HOUSE. 


NEW  YORK : 
G.  W.  Carlcton   &  Co.,  Publishers. 

M  DCCO  LJCVim 


- 


104- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  €ongress,  In  the  year  1868,  by 

ELIZABETH  KECKLEY, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for 
the  Southern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


THE  NEW  YORK  PRINTING  COMPANY, 
8 1,  83,  and  85  Centre  Street, 
NEW  YORK. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Preface 11 

CHAPTER  I. 
Where  I  was  born 17 

CHAPTER  II. 
Girlhood  and  its  Sorrows 31 

CHAPTER  III. 
How  I  gained  my  Freedom 43 

CHAPTER  IV. 

In  the  Family  of  Senator  Jefferson  Davis 63 

CHAPTER  V. 
My  Introduction  to  Mrs.  Lincoln 76 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Willie  Lincoln's  Death-bed 91 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Washington  in  1862-3 Ill 


38363? 


x  Contents. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

PACK 

Candid  Opinions 127 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Behind  the  Scenes 139 

CHAPTER  X. 
The  Second  Inauguration 156 

CHAPTER  XL 

The  Assassination  of  President  Lincoln 178 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  leaves  the  White  House 201 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Origin  of  the  Rivalry  between  Mr.  Douglas  and  Mr. 

Lincoln 228 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Old  Friends 238 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Secret  History  of  Mrs.  Lincoln's  Wardrobe  in  New 
York  . 267 

Appendix — Letters  from  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  Mrs.  Keckley..  332 


PREFACE. 


I  HAVE  6ften  been  asked  to  write  my  life,  as  those  who 
know  me  know  that  it  has  been  an  eventful  one.  At  last  I 
have  acceded  to  the  importunities  of  my  friends,  and 
have  hastily  sketched  some  of  the  striking  incidents 
that  go  to  make  up  my  history.  My  life,  so  full  of  ro 
mance,  may  sound  like  a  dream  to  the  matter-of-fact 
reader,  nevertheless  everything  I  have  written  is  strict 
ly  true  ;  much  has  been  omitted,  but  nothing  has  been 
exaggerated.  In  writing  as  I  have  done,  I  am  well 
aware  that  I  have  invited  criticism ;  but  before  the  critic 
judges  harshly,  let  my  explanation  be  carefully  read 
and  weighed.  If  I  have  portrayed  the  dark  side  of 
slavery,  1  also  have  painted  the  bright  side.  The  good 
that  I  have  said  of  human  servitude  should  be  thrown 
into  the  scales  with  the  evil  that  I  have  said  of  it.  I 
have  kind,  true-hearted  friends  in  the  South  as  well  as 
in  the  North,  aud  I  would  not  wound  those  Southern 


xii  Preface. 

friends  by  sweeping  condemnation,  simply  because  I 
was  once  a  slave.  They  were  not  so  much  responsible 
for  the  curse  under  which  I  was  born,  as  the  God  of 
nature  and  the  fathers  who  framed  the  Constitution  for 
the  United  States.  The  law  descended  to  them,  and  it 
was  but  natural  that  they  should  recognize  it,  since  it 
manifestly  was  their  interest  to  do  so.  And  yet  a 
wrong  was  inflicted  upon  me ;  a  cruel  custom  deprived 
me  of  my  liberty,  and  since  I  was  robbed  of  my  dearest 
right,  I  would  not  have  been  human  had  I  not  rebelled 
against  the  robbery.  God  rules  the  Universe.  I  was 
a  feeble  instrument  in  His  hands,  and  through  me  and 
the  enslaved  millions  of  my  race,  one  of  the  problems 
was  solved  that  belongs  to  the  great  problem  of  human 
destiny ;  and  the  solution  was  developed  so  gradually 
that  there  was  no  great  convulsion  of  the  harmonies  of 
natural  laws.  A  solemn  truth  was  thrown  to  the  sur 
face,  and  what  is  better  still,  it  was  recognized  as  a  truth 
by  those  who  give  force  to  moral  laws.  An  act  may 
be  wrong,  but  unless  the  ruling  power  recognizes  the 
wrong,  it  is  useless  to  hope  for  a  correction  of  it.  Priii*- 
ciples  may  be  right,  but  they  are  not  established  within 
an  hour.  The  masses  are  slow  to  reason,  and  each 
principle,  to  acquire  moral  force,  must  come  to  us  from 
the  fire  of  the  crucible ;  the  fire  may  inflict  unjust  pun 
ishment,  but  then  it  purifies  and  renders  stronger  the 
principle,  not  in  itself,  but  in  the  eyes  of  those  who 
arrogate  judgment  to  themselves.  When  the  war  of 
the  Revolution  established  the  independence  of  the 


Preface.  xiii 

American  colonies,  an  evil  was  perpetuated,  slavery 
was  more  firmly  established;  and  since  the  evil  had 
been  planted,  it  must  pass  through  certain  stages  before 
it  could  be  eradicated.  In  fact,  we  give  but  little 
thought  to  the  plant  of  evil  until  it  grows  to  such  mon 
strous  proportions  that  it  overshadows  important  inter 
ests  ;  then  the  efforts  to  destroy  it  become  earnest. 
As  one  of  the  victims  of  slavery  I  drank  of  the  bitter 
water ;  but  then,  since  destiny  willed  it  so,  and  since  I 
aided  in  bringing  a  solemn  truth  to  the  surface  as  a 
truth,  perhaps  I  have  no  right  to  complain.  Here,  as 
in  all  things  pertaining  to  life,  I  can  afford  to  be  chari 
table. 

It  may  be  charged  that  I  have  written  too  freely  on 
some  questions,  especially  in  regard  to  Mrs.  Lincoln.  I 
do  not  think  so ;  at  least  I  have  been  prompted  by  the 
purest  motive.  Mrs.  Lincoln,  by  her  own  acts,  forced 
herself  into  notoriety.  She  stepped  beyond  the  formal 
lines  which  hedge  about  a  private  life,  and  invited  pub 
lic  criticism.  The  people  have  judged  her  harshly,  and 
no  woman  was  ever  more  traduced  in  the  public  prints 
of  the  country.  The  people  knew  nothing  of  the  secret 
history  of  her  transactions,  therefore  they  judged  her 
by  what  was  thrown  to  the  surface.  For  an  act  may  be 
wrong  judged  purely  by  itself,  but  when  the  motive 
that  prompted  the  act  is  understood,  it  is  construed 
differently.  I  lay  it  down  as  an  axiom,  that  only  that  is 
criminal  in  the  sight  of  God  where  crime  is  meditated. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  may  have  been  imprudent,  but  since  her 


xiv  Preface. 

intentions  were  good,  she  should  be  judged  more  kind 
ly  than  she  has  been.  But  the  world  do  not  know 
what  her  intentions  were ;  they  have  only  been  made 
acquainted  with  her  acts  without  knowing  what  feeling 
guided  her  actions.  If  the  world  are  to  judge  her  as  I 
have  judged  her,  they  must  be  introduced  to  the  secret 
history  of  her  transactions.  The  veil  of  mystery  must 
be  drawn  aside  ;  the  origin  of  a  fact  must  be  brought  to 
light  with  the  naked  fact  itself.  If  I  have  betrayed 
confidence  in  anything  I  have  published,  it  has  been  to 
place  Mrs.  Lincoln  in  a  better  light  before  the  world. 
A  breach  of  trust — if  breach  it  can  be  called — of  this 
kind  is  always  excusable.  My  own  character,  as  well  as 
the  character  of  Mrs.  Lincoln,  is  at  stake,  since  I  have 
been  intimately  associated  with  that  lady  in  the  most 
eventful  periods  of  her  life.  I  have  been  her  confidante, 
and  if  evil  charges  are  laid  at  her  door,  they  also  must 
be  laid  at  mine,  since  I  have  been  a  party  to  all  her 
movements.  To  defend  myself  I  must  defend  the  lady 
that  I  have  served.  The  world  have  judged  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  by  the  facts  which  float  upon  the  surface,  and 
through  her  have  partially  judged  me,  and  the  only 
way  to  convince  them  that  wrong  was  not  meditated  is 
to  explain  the  motives  that  actuated  us.  I  have  written 
nothing  that  can  place  Mrs.  Lincoln  in  a  worse  light 
before  the  world  than  the  light  in  which  she  now  stands, 
therefore  the  secret  history  that  I  publish  can  do  her 
no  harm.  I  have  excluded  everything  of  a  personal 
character  from  her  letters ;  the  extracts  introduced  only 


Preface.  xv 

refer  to  public  men,  and  are  such  as  to  throw  light 
upon  her  unfortunate  adventure  in  New  York.  These 
letters  were  not  written  for  publication,  for  which 
reason  they  are  all  the  more  valuable;  they  are  the 
frank  overflowings  of  the  heart,  the  outcropping  of  im 
pulse,  the  key  to  genuine  motives.  They  prove  the 
motive  to  have  been  pure,  and  if  they  shall  help  to  stifle 
the  voice  of  calumny,  I  am  content.  I  do  not  forget, 
before  the  public  journals  vilified  Mrs.  Lincoln,  that  ladies 
who  moved  in  the  Washington  circle  in  which  she 
moved,  freely  canvassed  her  character  among  them 
selves.  They  gloated  over  many  a  tale  of  scandal  that 
grew  out  of  gossip  in  their  own  circle.  If  these  ladies 
could  say  everything  bad  of  the  wife  of  the  President, 
why  should  I  not  be  permitted  to  lay  her  secret  history 
bare,  especially  when  that  history  plainly  shows  that  her 
life,  like  all  lives,  has  its  good  side  as  well  as  its  bad 
side  ?  None  of  us  are  perfect,  for  which  reason  we 
should  heed  the  voice  of  charity  when  it  whispers 
in  our  ears,  "  Do  not  magnify  the  imperfections  of 
others."  Had  Mrs.  Lincoln's  acts  never  become  pub 
lic  property,  I  should  not  have  published  to  the  world 
the  secret  chapters  of  her  life.  I  am  not  the  special 
champion  of  the  widow  of  our  lamented  President ;  the 
reader  of  the  pages  which  follow  will  discover  that  I 
have  written  with  the  utmost  frankness  in  regard  to  her 
— have  exposed  her  faults  as  well  as  given  her  credit  for 
honest  motives.  I  wish  the  world  to  judge  her  as  she 
is,  free  from  the  exaggerations  of  praise  or  scandal,  since 


xvi  Preface. 

I  have  been  associated  with  her  in  so  many  things  that 
have  provoked  hostile  criticism  ;  and  the  judgment  that 
the  world  may  pass  upon  her,  I  flatter  myself,  will  pre 
sent  my  own  actions  in  a  better  light. 

ELIZABETH  KECKLEY. 

14  CABROLL  PLACE,  NEW  YORK,  March  14,  1868. 


EHIND      THE 


GENES 


CHAPTER  I. 
WHERE    I   WAS  BORX. 

Y  life  has  been  an  eventful  one.  I 
was  born  a  slave — was  the  child 
of  slave  parents — therefore  I  came 
upon  the  earth  free  in  God-like 
thought,  but  fettered  in  action.  My  birthplace 
was  Dinwiddie  Co  art-House,  in  Virginia.  My 
recollections  of  childhood  are  distinct,  perhaps 
for  the  reason  that  many  stirring  incidents  are 
associated  with  that  period.  I  am  now  on  the 
shady  side  of  forty,  and  as  I  sit  alone  in  my  room 
the  brain  is  busy,  and  a  rapidly  moving  pano 
rama  brings  scene  after  scene  before  me,  some 


•  * 


18  Behind  the  Scenes. 

pleasant  and  others  sad ;  and  when  I  thus  greet 
old  familiar  faces,  I  often  find  myself  wonder 
ing  if  I  am  not  living  the  past  over  again.  The 
visions  are  so  terribly  distinct  that  I  almost 
imagine  them  to  be  real.  Hour  after  hour 
I  sit  while  the  scerfes  are  being  shifted ;  and 
as  I  gaze  upon  the  panorama  of  the  past,  I 
realize  how  crowded  with  incidents  my  life 
has  been.  Every  day  seems  like  a  romance 
within  itself,  and  the  years  grow  into  ponder 
ous  volumes.  As  I  cannot  condense,  I  must 
omit  many  strange  passages  in  my  history. 
From  such  a  wilderness  of  events  it  is  difficult 
to  make  a  selection,  but  as  I  am  not  writing 
altogether  the  history  of  myself,  I  will  confine 
my  story  to  the  most  important  incidents  which 
I  believe  influenced  the  moulding  of  my  char 
acter.  As  I  glance  over  the  crowded  sea  of 
the  past,  these  incidents  stand  forth  promi 
nently,  the  guide-posts  of  memory.  I  presume 
that  I  must  have  been  four  years  old  when  I 


Behind  the  Scenes.  19 

first  began  to  remember ;  at  least,  I  cannot  now 
recall  anything  occurring  previous  to  this  period. 
My  master,  Col.  A.  Burwell,  was  somewhat  un 
settled  in  his  business  affairs,  and  while  I  was 
yet  an  infant  he  made  several  removals.  While 
living  at  Hampton  Sidney  College,  Prince  Ed 
ward  County,  Ya.,  Mrs.  Burwell  gave  birth 
to  a  daughter,  a  sweet,  black-eyed  baby,  my 
earliest  and  fondest  pet.  To  take  care  of  this 
baby  was  my  first  duty.  True,  I  was  but  a 
child  myself — only  four  years  old — but  then  I 
had  been  raised  in  a  hardy  school — had  been 
taught  to  rely  upon  myself,  and  to  prepare  my 
self  to  render  assistance  to  others.  The  lesson 
was  not  a  bitter  one,  for  I  was  too  young  to 
indulge  in  philosophy,  and  the  precepts  that  I 
then  treasured  and  practised  I  believe  developed 
those  principles  of  character  which  have  enabled 
me  to  triumph  over  so  many  difficulties.  Not 
withstanding  all  the  wrongs  that  slavery  heaped 
upon  ine,  I  can  bless  it  for  one  thing — youth's 


20  Behind  the  Scenes. 

important  lesson  of  self-reliance.  The  baby  was 
named  Elizabeth,  and  it  was  pleasant  to  me  to 
be  assigned  a  duty  in  connection  with  it,  for 
the  discharge  of  that  duty  transferred  me  from 
the  rude  cabin  to  the  household  of  my  master. 
My  simple  attire  was  a  short  dress  and  a  little 
white  apron.  My  old  mistress  encouraged  me 
in  rocking  the  cradle,  by  telling  me  that  if  I 

O  */  CD 

would  watch  over  the  baby  well,  keep  the  flies 
out  of  its  face,  and  not  let  it  cry,  I  should  be 
its  little  maid.  This  was  a  golden  promise,  and 
I  required  no  better  inducement  for  the  faithful 
performance  of  my  task.  I  began  to  rock  the 
cradle  most  industriously,  when  lo !  out  pitched 
little  pet  on  the  floor.  I  instantly  cried  out, 
"  Oh  !  the  baby  is  on  the  floor ;"  and,  not 
knowing  what  to  do,  I  seized  the  fire-shovel  in 
my  perplexity,  and  was  trying  to  shovel  up  my 
tender  charge,  when  my  mistress  called  to  me 
to  let  the  child  alone,  and  then  ordered  that  I 
be  taken  out  and  lashed  for  my  carelessness. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  21 

The  blows  were  not  administered  with  a  light 
hand,  I  assure  yon,  and  doubtless  the  severity 
of  the  lashing  has  made  me  remember  the  in 
cident  so  well.  This  was  the  first  time  I  was 
punished  in  this  cruel  way,  but  not  the  last. 
The  black-eyed  baby  that  I  called  my  pet  grew 
into  a  self-willed  girl,  and  in  after  years  was 
the  cause  of  much  trouble  to  me.  I  grew  strong 
and  healthy,  and,  notwithstanding  I  knit  socks 
and  attended  to  various  kinds  of  work,  I  was 
repeatedly  told,  when  even  fourteen  years  old, 
that  I  would  never  be  worth  my  salt.  When 
I  was  eight,  Mr.  Burwell's  family  consisted  of 
six  sons  and  four  daughters,  with  a  large  family 
of  servants.  My  mother  was  kind  and  forbear 
ing  ;  Mrs.  Biirwell  a  hard  task-master ;  and  as 
mother  had  so  much  work  to  do  in  making 

O 

clothes,  etc.,  for  the  family,  besides  the  slaves,  I 
determined  to  render  her  all  the  assistance  in 
my  power,  and  in  rendering  her  such  assistance 
my  young  energies  were  taxed  to  the  utmost 


22  Behind  the  Scenes. 

I  was  my  mother's  only  child,  which  made  hei 
love  for  me  all  the  stronger.  I  did  not  know 
much  of  my  father,  for  he  was  the  slave  of  an 
other  man,  and  when  Mr.  Burwell  moved  from 
Dinwiddie  he  was  separated  from  us,  and  only 
allowed  to  visit  my  mother  twice  a  year — during 
the  Easter  holidays  and  Christmas.  At  last 
Mr.  Burwell  determined  to  reward  my  mother, 
by  making  an  arrangement  with  the  owner  of 
my  father,  by  which  the  separation  of  my  parents 
could  be  brought  to  an  end.  It  was  a  bright 
day,  indeed,  for  my  mother  when  it  was  an 
nounced  that  my  father  was  coming  to  live  with 
us.  The  old  weary  look  faded  from  her  face, 
and  she  worked  as  if  her  heart  was  in  every 
task.  But  the  golden  days  did  not  last  long. 
The  radiant  dream  faded  all  too  soon. 

In  the  morning  my  father  called  me  to  him 
and  kissed  me,  then  held  me  out  at  arms'  length 
as  if  he  were  regarding  his  child  with  pride. 
"  She  is  growing  into  a  large  line  girl,"  he  re- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  23 

marked  to  my  mother.  "I  dim  no  which  I  like 
best,  you  or  Lizzie,  as  both  are  so  dear  to  me." 
My  mother's  name  was  Agnes,  and  my  father 
delighted  to  call  me  his  "Little  Lizzie."  While 
yet  my  father  and  mother  were  speaking  hope 
fully,  joyfully  of  the  future,  Mr.  Burwell  came 
to  the  cabin,  with  a  letter  in  his  hand.  He  was 
a  kind  master  in  some  things,  and  as  gently  as 
possible  informed  my  parents  that  they  must 
part ;  for  in  two  hours  my  father  must  join  his 
master  at  Dinwiddie,  and  go  with  him  to  the 
West,  where  he  had  determined  to  make  his  fu 
ture  home.  The  announcement  fell  upon  the  lit 
tle  circle  in  that  rude-log  cabin  like  a  thunderbolt. 
I  can  remember  the  scene  as  if  it  were  but  yes 
terday  ; — how  my  father  cried  out  against  the 
cruel  separation;  his  last  kiss  ;  his  wild  straining 
of  my  mother  to  his  bosom  ;  the  solemn  prayer  to 
Heaven ;  the  tears  and  sobs — the  fearful  anguish 
of  broken  hearts.  The  last  kiss,  the  last  good- 
by ;  and  he,  my  father,  was  gone,  gone  forever. 


24:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

The  shadow  eclipsed  the  sunshine,  and  love 
brought  despair.  The  parting  was  eternal.  The 
cloud  had  no  silver  lining,  but  I  trust  that  it  will 
be  all  silver  in  heaven.  We  who  are  crushed  to 
earth  with  heavy  chains,  who  travel  a  weary, 
rugged,  thorny  road,  groping  through  midnight 
darkness  on  earth,  earn  our  right  to  enjoy  the 
sunshine  in  the  great  hereafter.  At  the  grave, 
at  least,  we  shotild  be  permitted  to  lay  our  bur 
dens  down,  that  a  new  world,  a  world  of  bright 
ness,  may  open  to  us.  The  light  that  is  denied  us 
here  should  grow  into  a  flood  of  effulgence  be 
yond  the  dark,  mysterious  shadows  of  death. 
Deep  as  was  the  distress  of  my  mother  in  parting 
with  my  father,  her  sorrow  did  not  screen  her 
from  insult.  My  old  mistress  said  to  her :  "  Stop 
your  nonsense ;  there  is  no  necessity  for  you  put 
ting  on  airs.  Your  husband  is  not  the  only  slave 
that  has  been  sold  from  his  family,  and  you  are 
not  the  only  one  that  has  had  to  part.  There  are 
plenty  more  men  about  here,  and  if  you  want  a 


Behind  the  Scenes.  25 

husband  so  badly,  stop  your  crying  and  go  and 
find  another."  To  these  unfeeling  words  my 
mother  made  no  reply.  She  turned  away  in 
stoical  silence,  with  a  curl  of  that  loathing 
scorn  upon  her  lips  which  swelled  in  her 
heart. 

My  father  and  mother  never  met  again  in 
this  world.  They  kept  up  a  regular  correspon 
dence  for  years,  and  the  most  precious  mementoes 
of  my  existence  are  the  faded  old  letters  that  he 
wrote,  full  of  love,  and  always  hoping  that  the 
future  would  bring  brighter  days.  In  nearly 
every  letter  is  a  message  for  me.  "  Tell  my 
darling  little  Lizzie,"  he  writes,  "to  be  a  good 
girl,  and  to  learn  her  book.  Kiss  her  for  me,  and 
tell  her  that  I  will  come  to  see  her  some  day." 
Thus  he  wrote  time  and  again,  but  he  never 
came.  He  lived  in  hope,  but  died  without  ever 
seeing  his  wife  and  child. 

I  note  a  few  extracts  from  one  of  my  father's 

letters  to  my  mother,  following  copy  literally : 
2 


26  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  SHELBY  VILE,  Sept.  6,  1833. 
"  MKS.  AGNES  HOBBS. 

"  Dear  Wife  :  My  dear  biloved  wife  I  am  more 
than  glad  to  meet  with  opportunty  writee  thes 
few  lines  to  you  by  my  Mistress  who  ar  now 
about  starterng  to  Virginia,  and  sevl  others  of  my 
old  friends  are  with  her  ;  in  compeney  Mrs.  Ann 
Bus  the  wife  of  master  Thos  Rus  and  Dan  Wood- 
iard  and  his  family  and  I  am  very  sorry  that  I 
havn  the  chance  to  go  with  them  as  I  feele 
Determid  to  see  you  If  life  last  again.  I  am  now 
here  and  out  at  this  pleace  so  I  am  not  abble  to 
get  of  at  this  time.  I  am  write  well  and  hearty 
and  all  the  rest  of  masters  family.  I  heard  this 
eveng  by  Mistress  that  ar  just  from  theree  all 
sends  love  to  you  and  all  my  old  "frends.  I  am 
a  living  in  a  town  called  Shelbyville  and  I  have 
wrote  a  greate  many  letters  since  Ive  beene  here 
and  almost  been  reeady  to  my  selfe  that  its  out 
of  the  question  to  write  any  more  at  tall :  my  dear 
wife  I  dont  feeld  no  whys  like  giving  out  writing 


Behind  the  Scenes.  27 

to  you  as  yet  and  I  hope  when  you  get  this  letter 
that  you  be  Inncougege  to  write  me  a  letter.  I 
am  well  satisfied  at  my  living  at  this  place  I  am  a 
making  money  for  my  own  benifit  and  I  hope 
that  its  to  yours  also  If  I  live  to  see  Kexct  year 
I  shall  heve  my  own  time  from  master  by  giving 
him  100  and  twenty  Dollars  a  year  and  I  thinkel 
shall  be  doing  good  bisness  at  that  and  heve  some 
thing  more  thean  all  that.  I  hope  with  gods 
helpe  that  I  may  be  abble  to  rejoys  with  you  on 
the  earth  and  In  heaven  lets  meet  when  will  I  am 
detemnid  to  nuver  stope  praying,  not  in  this  earth 
and  I  hope  to  praise  god  In  glory  there  weel 
meet  to  part  no  more  forever.  So  my  dear  wife 
I  hope  to  meet  you  In  paradase  to  prase  god  for 
ever  #•***•*!  want  Elizabeth  to  be  a  good 
girl  and  not  to  thinke  that  becasue  I  am  bound  so 
fare  that  gods  not  abble  to  open  the  way  *  *  *  * 

"  GEORGE  PLEAS AOT, 
"  Hobls  a  servant  of  Grum" 

The  last  letter  that  rny  mother  received  from  my 


28  Behind  the  Scenes. 

father  was  dated  Shelbyville,  Tennessee,  March 
20,  1839.     He  writes  in  a  cheerful  strain,  and 
hopes  to  see  her  soon.     Alas  !  he  looked  forward 
to  a  meeting  in  vain.     Year  after  year  the  one 
great  hope  swelled  in  his  heart,  but  the  hope  was 
only  realized  beyond  the  dark  portals  of  the  grave. 
"When  I  was  about  seven  years  old  I  witnessed, 
for  the  first  time,  the  sale  of  a  human  being. 
"We  were  living  at  Prince  Edward,  in  Yirginia, 
and  master  had  just  purchased  his  hogs  for  the 
winter,  for  which  he  was  unable  to  pay  in  full. 
To  escape  from  his  embarrassment  it  was  neces 
sary  to  sell  one  of  the  slaves.     Little  Joe,  the  son 
of  the   cook,  was  selected  as  the  victim.     His 
mother  was  ordered  to  dress  him  up  in  his  Sun 
day  clothes,  and  send  him  to  the  house.      He 
came  in  with  a  bright  face,  was  placed  in  the 
scales,  and  was  sold,  like  the  hogs,  at  so  much 
per  pound.     His  mother  was  kept  in  ignorance 
of    the    transaction,    but    her     suspicions   were 
aroused.     When  her  son  started  for  Peter sburgh 
in  the  wagon,  the  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  her 


Behind  the  Scenes.  29 

mind,  and  she  pleaded  piteously  that  her  boy 
should  not  be  taken  from  her ;  but  master  quiet 
ed  her  by  telling  her  that  he  was  simply  going  to 
town  with  the  wagon,  and  would  be  back  in  the 
morning.  Morning  came,  but  little  Joe  did  not 
return  to  his  mother.  Morning  after  morning" 
passed,  and  the  mother  went  down  to  the  grave 
without  ever  seeing  her  child  again.  One  day 
she  was  whipped  for  grieving  for  her  lost  boy. 
Colonel  Burwell  never  liked  to  see  one  of  his 
slaves  wear  a  sorrowful  face,  and  those  who 
offended  in  this  particular  way  were  always 
punished.  Alas !  the  sunny  face  of  the  slave  is 
not  always  an  indication  of  sunshine  in  the 
heart.  Colonel  Burwell  at  one  time  owned 
about  seventy  slaves,  all  of  which  were  sold,  and 
in  a  majority  of  instances  wives  were  separated 
from  husbands  and  children  from  their  parents. 
Slavery  in  the  Border  States  forty  years  ago  was 
different  from  what  it  was  twenty  years  ago. 
Time  seemed  to  soften  the  hearts  of  master  and 


30  Behind  the  Scenes. 

mistress,  and  to  insure  kinder  and  more  hu 
mane  treatment  to  bondsmen  and  bondswomen. 
When  I  was  quite  a  child,  an  incident  occurred 
which  my  mother  afterward  impressed  more 
strongly  on  my  mind.  One  of  my  uncles,  a 
slave  of  Colonel  Burwell,  lost  a  pair  of  plough- 
lines,  and  when  the  loss  was  made  known  the 
master  gave  him  a  new  pair,  and  told  him  that  if 
he  did  not  take  care  of  them  he  would  punish 
him  severely.  In  a  few  weeks  the  second  pair 
of  lines  was  stolen,  and  my  uncle  hung  himself 
rather  than  meet  the  displeasure  of  his  master. 
My  mother  went  to  the  spring  in  the  morning 
for  a  pail  of  water,  and  on  looking  up  into  the 
willow  tree  which  shaded  the  bubbling  crystal 
stream,  she  discovered  the  lifeless  form  of  her 
brother  suspended  beneath  one  of  the  strong 
branches.  Rather  than  be  punished  the  way 
Colonel  Burwell  punished  his  servants,  he  tock 
his  own  life.  Slavery  had  its  dark  side  as  well 
as  its  bright  side. 


CHAPTER  II. 

GIRLHOOD  AND  ITS  SORROWS. 

MUST  pass  rapidly  over  the  stirring 
events  of  my  early  life.  When  I 
was  about  fourteen  years  old  I  went 
to  live  with  my  master's  eldest  son, 
a  Presbyterian  minister.  His  salary  was  small, 
and  he  was  burdened  with  a  helpless  wife,  a  girl 
that  he  had  married  in  the  humble  walks  of  life. 
She  was  morbidly  sensitive,  and  imagined  that 
I  regarded  her  writh  contemptuous  feelings  -be 
cause  she  was  of  poor  parentage.  I  was  their  only 
servant,  and  a  gracious  loan  at  that.  They  were 
not  able  to  buy  me,  so  my  old  master  sought  to 


32  Behind  the  Scenes. 

render  them  assistance  by  allowing  them  the 
benefit  of  my  services.  From  the  very  first  I 
did  the  work  of  three  servants,  and  yet  I  was 
scolded  and  regarded  with  distrust.  The  years 
passed  slowly,  and  I  continued  to  serve  them, 
and  at  the  same  time  grew  into  strong,  healthy 
womanhood.  I  was  nearly  eighteen  when  we 
removed  from  Virginia  to  Hillsboro',  JSTorth  Caro 
lina,  where  young  Mr.  Burwell  took  charge  of  a 
church.  The  salary  was  small,  and  we  still  had 
to  practise  the  closest  economy.  Mr.  Bingham,  a 
hard,  cruel  man,  the  village  schoolmaster,  was  a 
member  of  my  young  master's  church,  and  he  was 
a  frequent  visitor  to  the  parsonage.  She  whom  I 
called  mistress  seemed  to  be  desirous  to  wreak 
vengeance  on  me  for  something,  and  Bingham 
became  her  ready  tool.  During  this  time  my 
master  was  unusually  kind  to  me ;  he  was  nat 
urally  a  good-hearted  man,  but  was  influenced 
by  his  wife.  It  was  Saturday  evening,  and  while 
I  was  bending  over  the  bed,  watching  the  baby 


Behind  the  Scenes.  33 

that  I  had  just  hushed  into  slumber,  Mr.  Bing- 
ham  came  to  the  door  and  asked  me  to  go  with 
him  to  his  study.  Wondering  what  he  meant 
by  his  strange  request,  I  followed  him,  and  when 
we  had  entered  the  study  he  closed  the  door,  and 
in  his  blunt  way  remarked :  "  Lizzie,  I  am  going 
to  flog  you."  I  was  thunderstruck,  and  tried  to 
think  if  I  had  been  remiss  in  anything.  I  could 
not  recollect  of  doing  anything  to  deserve  punish 
ment,  and  with  surprise  exclaimed  :  "  Whip  me, 
Mr.  Bingham  !  what  for  ?  " 

"  No  matter,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  going  to  whip 
you,  so  take  down  your  dress  this  instant." 

Recollect,  I  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  was  a 
woman  fully  developed,  and  yet  this  man  coolly 
bade  me  take  down  my  dress.  I  drew  myself  up 
proudly,  firmly,  and  said :  "  No,  Mr.  Bingham,  I 
shall  not  take  down  my  dress  before  you.  More 
over,  you  shall  not  whip  me  unless  you  prove  the 
stronger.  Nobody  has  a  right  to  whip  me  but 
my  own  master,  and  nobody  shall  do  so  if  I  can 

prevent  it." 
2* 


34  Behind  the  Scenes. 

My  words  seemed  to  exasperate  him.  He 
seized  a  rope,  caught  me  roughly,  and  tried  to  tie 
me.  I  resisted  with  all  my  strength,  but  he  was 
the  stronger  of  the  two,  and  after  a  hard  struggle 
succeeded  in  binding  my  hands  and  tearing  my 
dress  from  my  back.  Then  he  picked  up  a  raw 
hide,  and  began  to  ply  it  freely  over  my  shoul 
ders.  With  steady  hand  and  practised  eye  he 
would  raise  the  instrument  of  torture,  nerve  him 
self  for  a  blow,  and  with  fearful  force  the  raw 
hide  descended  upon  the  quivering  flesh.  It  cut 
the  skin,  raised  great  welts,  and  the  warm  blood 
trickled  down  my  back.  Oh  God !  I  can  feel 
the  torture  now — the  terrible,  excruciating  agony 
of  those  moments.  I  did  not  scream ;  I  was  too 
proud  to  let  my  tormentor  know  what  I  was 
suffering.  I  closed  my  lips  firmly,  that  not  even 
a  groan  might  escape  from  them,  and  I  stood  like 
a  statue  while  the  keen  lash  cut  deep  into  my 
flesh.  |  As  soon  as  I  was  released,  stunned  with 
pain,  bruised  and  bleeding,  I  went  home  and 


Behind  the  Scenes.  35 

ruphed  into  the  presence  of  the  pastor  and  his 
wife,  wildly  exclaiming  :  "  Master  Robert,  why 
did  you  let  Mr.  Bingham  flog  me  ?  What  have 
I  done  that  I  should  be  so  punished  ? " 

"  Go  away,"  he  gruffly  answered,  "  do  not 
bother  me." 

I  would  not  be  put  off  thus.  "  What  have  I 
done  ?  I  will  know  why  I  have  been  flogged." 

I  saw  his  cheeks  flush  with  anger,  but  I  did 
not  move.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  on  my  refus 
ing  to  go  without  an  explanation,  seized  a  chair, 
struck  me,  and  felled  me  to  the  floor.  I  rose, 
bewildered,  almost  dead  with  pain,  crept  to  my 
room,  dressed  my  bruised  arms  and  back  as  best 
I  could,  and  then  lay  down,  but  not  to  sleep.  No, 
I  could  not  sleep,  for  I  was  suffering  mental  as 
well  as  bodily  torture.  My  spirit  rebelled  against 
the  unjust-ness  that  had  been  inflicted  upon  me, 
and  though  I  tried  to  smother  my  anger  and  to 
forgive  those  who  had  been  so  cruel  to  me,  it 
was  impossible.  The  next  morning  I  was  more 


36  Behind  the  Scenes. 

calm,  and  I  believe  that  I  could  then  have  for 
given  everything  for  the  sake  of  one  kind  word. 
But  the  kind  word  was  not  proffered,  and  it 
may  be  possible  that  I  grew  somewhat  wayward 
and  sullen.  Though  I  had  faults,  I  know  now, 
as  I  felt  then,  harshness  wras  the  poorest  induce 
ment  for  the  correction  of  them.  It  seems  that 
Mr.  Bingham  had  pledged  himself  to  Mrs.  Bur- 
well  to  subdue  what  he  called  my  "  stubborn 
pride."  On  Friday  following  the  Saturday  on 
which  I  was  so  savagely  beaten,  Mr.  Bingham 
again  directed  me  to  come  to  his  study.  I 
went,  but  with  the  determination  to  offer  re 
sistance  should  he  attempt  to  flog  me  again. 
On  entering  the  room  I  found  him  prepared  with 
a  new  rope  and  a  new  cowhide.  I  told  him 
that  I  was  ready  to  die,  but  that  he  could  not 
conquer  me.  In  struggling  with  him  I  bit  his 
finger  severely,  when  he  seized  a  heavy  stick  and 
beat  me  with  it  in  a  shameful  manner.  Again 
I  went  home  sore  and  bleeding,  but  with  pride  as 


Behind  the  Scenes.  37 

strong  and  defiant  as  ever.  The  following  Thurs 
day  Mr.  Bingham  again  tried  to  conquer  me, 
but  in  vain.  We  struggled,  and  he  struck  me 
many  savage  blows.  As  I  stood  bleeding  be 
fore  him,  nearly  exhausted  with  his  efforts,  he 
burst  into  tears,  and  declared  that  it  would  be 
a  sin  to  beat  me  any  more.  My  suffering  at 
last  subdued  his  hard  heart;  he  asked  my  forgive 
ness,  and  afterwards  was  an  altered  man.  He 
was  never  known  to  strike  one  of  his  servants 
from  that  day  forward.  Mr.  Burwell,  he  who 
preached  the  love  of  Heaven,  who  glorified  the 
precepts  and  examples  of  Christ,  who  expound 
ed  the  Holy  Scriptures  Sabbath  after  Sabbath 
from  the  pulpit,  when  Mr.  Bingham  refused  to 
whip  me  any  more,  was  urged  by  his  wife  to 
punish  me  himself.  One  morning  he  went  to  the 
wood-pile,  took  an  oak  broom,  cut  the  handle  off, 
and  with  this  heavy  handle  attempted  to  conquer 
me.  I  fought  him,  but  he  proved  the  strongest. 
At  the  sight  of  my  bleeding  form,  his  wife  fell 


38  Behind  the  Scenes. 

upon  her  knees  and  begged  him  to  desist.  My 
distress  even  touched  her  cold,  jealous  heart.  I 
was  so  badly  bruised  that  I  was  unable  to  leave 
my  bed  for  five  days.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  the 
bitter  anguish  of  these  hours,  for  even  the  thought 
of  them  now  makes  me  shudder.  The  Kev.  Mr. 
Burwell  was  not  yet.  satisfied.  He  resolved  to 
make  another  attempt  to  subdue  my  proud,  re 
bellious  spirit — made  the  attempt  and  again  fail 
ed,  when  he  told  me,  with  an  air  of  penitence, 
that  he  should  never  strike  me  another  blow ; 
and  faithfully  he  kept  his  word.  These  revolting 
scenes  created  a  great  sensation  at  the  time,  were 
the  talk  of  the  town  and  neighborhood,  and  I 
flatter  myself  that  the  actions  of  those  who  had 
conspired  against  me  were  not  viewed  in  a  light 
to  reflect  much  credit  upon  them. 

The  savage  efforts  to  subdue  my  pride  were 
not  the  only  things  that  brought  me  suffering 
and  deep  mortification  during  my  residence  at 
Hillsboro'.  I  was  regarded  as  fair-looking  for 


Behind  tlie  Scenes.  39 

one  of  my  race,  and  for  four  years  a  white  man — 
I  spare  the  world  his  name — had  base  designs 
upon  me.  I  do  not  care  to  dwell  upon  this  sub 
ject,  for  it  is-  one  that  is  fraught  with  pain. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  persecuted  me  for  four 
years,  and  I — I — became  a  mother.  The  child 
of  which  he  was  the  father  was  the  only  child 
that  I  ever  brought  into  the  world.  If  my  poor 
boy  ever  suffered  any  humiliating  pangs  on  ac 
count  of  birth,  he  could  not  blame  his  mother, 
for  God  knows  that  she  did  not  wish  to  give 
him  life;  he  must  blame  the  edicts  of  that  so 
ciety  which  deemed  it  no  crime  to  undermine 
the  virtue  of  girls  in  my  then  position. 

Among  the  old  letters  preserved  by  my  mother 
I  find  the  following,  written  by  myself  while 
at  Hillsboro'.  In  this  connection  I  desire  to 
state  that  Rev.  Robert  Burwell  is  now  living  *  at 
Charlotte,  North  Carolina : — 

"  HILLSBORO',  April  10,  1838. 
"  MY  DEAK  MOTHER  : — I  have  been  intending 

*  March,  1868. 


40  Behind  the  Scenes. 

to  write  to  you  for  a  long  time,  but  numerous 
things  have  prevented,  and  for  that  reason  you 
must  excuse  me. 

"  I  thought  very  hard  of  you  for  not  writing 
to  me,  but  hope  that  you  will  answer  this  letter 

as  soon  as  you  receive  it,  and  tell  me  how  you 

i 
like  Marsfield,  and  if  you  have  seen  any  of  my 

old  acquaintances,  or  if  you  yet  know  any  of  the 
brick-house  people  who  I  think  so  much  of.  I 
want  to  hear  of  the  family  at  home  very  much, 
indeed.  I  really  believe  you  and  all  the  family 
have  forgotten  me,  if  not  I  certainly  should 
have  heard  from  some  of  you  since  you  left 
Boy  ton,  if  it  was  only  a  line  ;  nevertheless  I 
love  you  all  very  dearly,  and  shall,  although  I 
may  never  see  you  again,  nor  do  I  ever  expect 
to.  Miss  Anna  is  going  to  Petersburgh  next 
winter,  but  she  says  that  she  does  not  intend  to 
take  me ;  what  reason  she  has  for  leaving  me  I 
cannot  tell.  I  have  often  wished  that  I  lived 
where  I  knew  I  never  could  see  you,  for  then  I 


Behind  the  Scenes.  41 

would  not  have  my  hopes  raised,  and  to  be  disap 
pointed  in  this  manner ;  however,  it  is  said  that 
a  bad  beginning  makes  a  good  ending,  but  I 
hardly  expect  to  see  that  happy  day  at  this 
place.  Give  my  love  to  all  the  family,  both 
white  and  black.  I  was  very  much  obliged  to 
you  for  the  presents  you  sent  me  last  summer, 
though  it  is  quite  late  in  the  day  to  be  thanking 
for  them.  Tell  Aunt  Bella  that  I  was  very 
much  obliged  to  her  for  her  present ;  I  have 
been  so  particular  with  it  that  I  have  only  worn 
it  once. 

"  There  have  been  six  weddings  since  October ; 
the  most  respectable  one  was  about  a  fortnight 
ago ;  I  was  asked  to  be  the  first  attendant,  but,  as 
usual  with  all  my  expectations,  I  was  disappoint 
ed,  for  on  the  wedding-day  I  felt  more  like 
being  locked  up  in  a  three-cornered  box  than 
attending  a  wedding.  About  a  week  before 
Christmas  I  was  bridesmaid  for  Ann  Nash ; 
when  the  night  came  I  was  in  quite  a  trouble ; 


42  Behind  the  Scenes. 

I  did  not  know  whether  my  frock  was  clean  or 
dirty  ;  I  only  had  a  week's  notice,  and  the  body 
and  sleeves  to  make,  and  only  one  hour  every 
night  to  work  on  it,  so  you  can  see  with  these 
troubles  to  overcome  my  chance  was  rather  slim. 
I  must  now  close,  although  I  could  fill  ten  pages 
with  my  griefs  and  misfortunes ;  no  tongue  could 
express  them  as  I  feel ;  don't  forget  me  though  ; 
and  answer  my  letters  soon.  I  will  write  you 
again,  and  would  write  more  now,  but  Miss  Anna 
says  it  is  time  I  had  finished.  Tell  Miss 
Elizabeth  that  I  wish  she  would  make  haste  and 
get  married,  for  mistress  says  that  I  belong  to  her 
when  she  gets  married. 

"  I  wish  you  would  send  me  a  pretty  frock  this 
summer  ;  if  you  will  send  it  to  Mrs.  Kobertson's 
Miss  Bet  will  send  it  to  me. 

"  Farewell,  darling  mother. 

"  Your  affectionate  daughter, 

"ELIZABETH  HOBBS." 


CHAPTER  III. 

How  I  GAINED  MY  FREEDOM. 

HE  years  passed  and  brought  many 
changes  to  me,  but  on  these  I  will  not 
dwell,  as  I  wish  to  hasten  to  the  most 
interesting  part  of  my  story.  My 
troubles  in  North  Carolina  were  brought  to  an  end 
by  my  unexpected  return  to  Virginia,  where  I  lived 
with  Mr.  Garland,  who  had  married  Miss  Ann 
Burwell,  one  of  my  old  master's  daughters.  His 
life  was  not  a  prosperous  one,  and  after  struggling 
with  the  world  for  several  years  he  left  his  native 
State,  a  disappointed  man.  He  moved  to  St. 
Louis,  hoping  to  improve  his  fortune  in  the  West ; 


4A  behind  the  Scenes. 

but  ill  luck  followed  him  there,  and  he  seemed 
to  be  unable  to  escape  from  the  influence  of  the 
evil  star  of  his  destiny.  When  his  family,  my 
self  included,  joined  him  in  his  new  home  on  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  we  found  him  so  poor 
that  he  was  unable  to  pay  the  dues  on  a  letter 
advertised  as  in  the  post-office  for  him.  The  ne 
cessities  of  the  family  were  so  great,  that  it  was 
proposed  to  place  my  mother  out  at  service.  The 
idea  was  shocking  to  me.  Every  gray  hair  in 
her  old  head  was  dear  to  me,  and  I  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  her  going  to  work  for  stran 
gers.  She  had  been  raised  in  the  family,  had 
watched  the  growth  of  each  child  from  infancy 
to  maturity;  they  had  been  the  objects  of  her 
kindest  care,  and  she  was  wound  round  about 
them  as  the  vine  winds  itself  about  the  rugged 
oak.  They  had  been  the  central  figures  in  her 
dream  of  life — a  dream  beautiful  to  her,  since  she 
had  basked  in  the  sunshine  of  no  other.  And 
*  now  they  proposed  to  destroy  each  tendril  of 


Behind  the  Scenes.  45 

affection,  to  cloud  the  sunshine  of  her  existence 
when  the  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  when  the 
shadows  of  solemn  night  were  rapidly  approach 
ing.  My  mother,  my  poor  aged  mother,  go 
among  strangers  to  toil  for  a  living!  No,  a 
thousand  times  no !  I  would  rather  work  my 
fingers  to  the  bone,  bend  over  my  sewing  till  the 
film  of  blindness  gathered  in  my  eyes  ;  nay,  even 
beg  from  street  to  street.  I  told  Mr.  Garland  so, 
and  he  gave  me  permission  to  see  what  I  could 
do.  I  was  fortunate  in  obtaining  work,  and  in  a 
short  time  I  had  acquired  something  of  a  reputa 
tion  as  a  seamstress  and  dress-maker.  The  best 
ladies  in  St.  Louis  were  my  patrons,  and  when 
my  reputation  was  once  established  I  never 
lacked  for  orders.  With  my  needle  I  kept  bread 
in  the  mouths  of  seventeen  persons  for  two  years 
and  five  months.  While  I  was  working  so  hard 
that  others  might  live  in  comparative  comfort, 
and  move  in  those  circles  of  society  to  which 
their  birth  gave  them  entrance,  the  thought  often 


46  Behind  the  Scenes. 

occurred  to  me  whether  I  was  really  worth  my 
salt  or  not;  and  then  perhaps  the  lips  curled 
with  a  bitter  sneer.  It  may  seem  strange  that 
I  should  place  so  much  emphasis  upon  words 
thoughtlessly,  idly  spoken  ;  but  then  we  do  many 
strange  things  in  life,  and  cannot  always  explain 
the  motives  that  actuate  us.  The  heavy  task 
was  too  much  for  me,  and  my  health  began  to 
give  way.  About  this  time  Mr.  Keckley,  whom 
I  had  met  in  Virginia,  and  learned  to  regard 
with  more  than  friendship,  came  to  St.  Louis. 
He  sought  my  hand  in  marriage,  and  for  a  long 
time  I  refused  to  consider  his  proposal;  for  I 
could  not  bear  the  thought  of  bringing  children 
into  slavery— of  adding  one  single  recruit  to  the 
millions  bound  to  hopeless  servitude,  fettered 
and  shackled  with  chains  stronger  and  heavier 
than  manacles  of  iron.  I  made  a  proposition  to 
buy  myself  and  son  ;  the  proposition  was  bluntly 
declined,  and  I  was  commanded  never  to  broach 
the  subject  again.  I  would  not  be  put  off  thus. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  47 

for  hope  pointed  to  a  freer,  brighter  life  in  the 
future.  Why  should  my  son  be  held  in  slavery  ? 
I  often  asked  myself.  He  came  into  the  world 
through  no  will  of  mine,  and  yet,  God  only  knows 
how  I  loved  him.  The  Anglo-Saxon  blood  as 
well  as  the  African  flowed  in  his  veins  ;  the  two 
currents  commingled — one  singing  of  freedom, 
the  other  silent  and  sullen  with  generations  of 
despair.  Why  should  not  the  Anglo-Saxon  tri 
umph—why  should  it  be  weighed  down  with  the 
rich  blood  typical  of  the  tropics  ?  Must  the  life- 
current  of  one  race  bind  the  other  race  in  chains 
as  strong  and  enduring  as  if  there  had  been  no 
Anglo-Saxon  taint  ?  By  the  laws  of  God  and  na 
ture,  as  interpreted  by  man,  one-half  of  my  boy 
was  free,  and  why  should  not  this  fair  birthright 
of  freedom  remove  the  curse  from  the  other 
half — raise  it  into  the  bright,  joyous  sunshine 
of  liberty?  I  could  not  answer  these  questions 
of  my  heart  that  almost  maddened  me,  and  I 
learned  to  regard  human  philosophy  with  dis- 


48  Behind  the  Scenes. 

trust.  Much  as  I  respected  the  authority  of  my 
master,  I  could  not  remain  silent  on  a  subject 
that  so  nearly  concerned  me.  One  day,  when  I 
insisted  on  knowing  whether  he  would  permit 
me  to  purchase  myself,  and  what  price  I  must 
pay  for  myself,  he  turned  to  me  in  a  petulant 
manner,  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  drew 
forth  a  bright  silver  quarter  of  a  dollar,  and  prof 
fering  it  to  me,  said : 

"  Lizzie,  I  have  told  you  often  not  to  trouble 
me  with  such  a  question.  If  you  really  wish  to 
leave  me,  take  this :  it  will  pay  the  passage  of 
yourself  and  boy  on  the  ferry-boat,  and  when  you 
are  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  you  will  be 
free.  It  is  the  cheapest  way  that  I  know  of  to 
accomplish  what  you  desire." 

I  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  and  earnestly 
replied  :  "  No,  master,  I  do  not  wish  to  be  free 
in  such  a  manner.  If  such  had  been  my  wish,  I 
should  never  have  troubled  you  about  obtaining 
your  consent  to  my  purchasing  myself.  I  can 


Behind  the  Scenes.  49 

cross  the  river  any  day,  as  you  well  know,  and 
have  frequently  done  so,  but  will  never  leave  you 
in  such  a  manner.  By  the  laws  of  the  land  I  am 
your  slave — you  are  my  master,  and  I  will  only 
be  free  by  such  means  *as  the  laws  of  the  country 
provide."  He  expected  this  answer,  and  I  knew 
that  he  was  pleased.  Some  time  afterwards  he 
told  me  that  he  had  reconsidered  the  question ; 
that  I  had  served  his  family  faithfully ;  that  I  de 
served  my  freedom,  and  that  he  would  take 
$1200  for  myself  and  boy. 

This  was  joyful  intelligence  for  me,  and  the  re 
flection  of  hope  gave  a  silver  lining  to  the  dark 
cloud  of  my  life — faint,  it  is  true,  but  still  a  silver 
lining. 

Taking  a  prospective  glance  at  liberty,  I  con 
sented  to  marry.  The  wedding  was  a  great 
event  in  the  family.  The  ceremony  took  place 
in  the  parlor,  in  the  presence  of  the  family  and  a 
number  of  guests.  Mr.  Garland  gave  me  away, 
and  the  pastor,  Bishop  Hawks,  performed  the 

3 


50  Behind  the  Scenes. 

ceremony,  who  had  solemnized  the  bridals  of  Mr. 
Gr.'s  own  children.  The  day  was  a  happy  one, 
but  it  faded  all  too  soon.  Mr.  Keckley — let  me 
speak  kindly  of  his  faults — proved  dissipated,  and 
a  burden  instead  of  a  helpmate.  More  than  all, 
I  learned  that  he  was  a  slave  instead  of  a  free 
man,  as  he  represented  himself  to  be.  With  the 
simple  explanation  that  I  lived  with  him  eight 
years,  let  charity  draw  around  him  the  mantle  of 
silence. 

I  went  to  work  in  earnest  to  purchase  my 
freedom,  but  the  years  passed,  and  I  was  still  a 
slave.  Mr.  Garland's  family  claimed  so  much  of 
my  attention — in  fact,  I  supported  them — that  I 
was  not  able  to  accumulate  anything.  In  the 
mean  time  Mr.  Garland  died,  and  Mr.  Burwell,  a 
Mississippi  planter,  came  to  St.  Louis  to  settle 
up  the  estate.  He  was  a  kind-hearted  man,  and 
said  I  should  be  free,  and  would  afford  me  every 
facility  to  raise  the  necessary  amount  to  pay  the 
price  of  my  liberty.  Several  schemes  were  urged 


Behind  the  Scenes.  51 

upon  me  by  my  friends.  At  last  I  formed  a 
resolution  to  go  to  New  York,  state  my  case,  and 
appeal  to  the  benevolence  of  the  people.  The 
plan  seemed  feasible,  and  I  made  preparations  to 
carry  it  out.  When  I  was  almost  ready  to  turn 
my  face  northward,  Mrs.  Garland  told  me  that 
she  would  require  the  names  of  six  gentlemen 
who  would  vouch  for  my  return,  and  become 
responsible  for  the  amount  at  which  I  was 
valued.  I  had  many  friends  in  St.  Louis,  and  as 
I  believed  that  they  had  confidence  in  me,  I  felt 
that  I  could  readily  obtain  the  names  desired.  I 
started  out,  stated  my  case,  and  obtained  five 
signatures  to  the  paper,  and  my  heart  throbbed 
with  pleasure,  for  I  did  not  believe  that  the  sixth 
would  refuse  me.  I  called,  he  listened  patiently, 
then  remarked : 

"  Yes,  yes,  Lizzie ;  the  scheme  is  a  fair  one,  and 
you  shall  have  my  name.  But  I  shall  bid  you 
good-by  when  you  start." 

"  Good-by  for  a  short  time,"  I  ventured  to  add. 


52  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  No,  good-by  for  all  time,"  and  he  looked  at 
me  as  if  he  would  read  my  very  soul  with  his 
eyes. 

I  was  startled.  "  What  do  you  mean,  Mr. 
Farrow  ?  Surely  you  do  not  think  that  I  do  not 
mean  to  come  back  ?" 

"  No." 

"No,  what  then?" 

"  Simply  this :  you  mean  to  come  back,  that 
is,  you  mean  so  now,  but  you  never  will.  When 
you  reach  New  York  the  abolitionists  wrill  tell 
you  what  savages  we  are,  and  they  will  prevail 
on  you  to  stay  there;  and  we  shall  never  see  you. 
again." 

"  But  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Farrow,  you  are  mis 
taken.  I  not  only  m<ean  to  come  back,  but  will 
come  back,  and  pay  every  cent  of  the  twelve 
hundred  dollars  for  myself  and  child." 

I  was  beginning  to  feel  sick  at  heart,  for  I 
could  not  accept  the  signature  of  this  man  when 
he  had  no  faith  in  my  pledges.  No ;  slavery, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  53 

eternal  slavery  rather  than  be  regarded  with  dis 
trust  by  those  whose  respect  I  esteemed. 

"But — I  am  not  mistaken,"  he  persisted. 
"  Time  will  show.  When  you  start  for  the  North 
I  shall  bid  you  good-by." 

The  heart  grew  heavy.  Every  ray  of  sunshine 
was  eclipsed.  With  humbled  pride,  weary  step, 
tearful  face,  and  a  dull,  aching  pain,  I  left  the 
house.  I  walked  along  the  street  mechanically. 
The  cloud  had  no  silver  lining  now.  The  rose 
buds  of  hope  had  withered  and  died  without  lift 
ing  up  their  heads  to  receive  the  dew  kiss  of 
morning.  There  was  no  morning  for  me — all 
was  night,  dark  night. 

I  reached  my  own  home,  and  weeping  threw 
myself  upon  the  bed.  My  trunk  was  packed, 
my  luncheon  was  prepared  by  mother,  the  cars 
were  ready  to  bear  me  where  I  would  not  hear 
the  clank  of  chains,  where  I  would  breathe  the 
free,  invigorating  breezes  of  the  glorious  North. 
I  had  dreamed  such  a  happy  dream,  in  imagina- 


54:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

tion  had  drunk  of  the  water,  the  pure,  sweet 
crystal  water  of  life,  but  now — now — the  flowers 
had  withered  before  my  eyes ;  darkness  had  set 
tled  down  upon  me  like  a  pall,  and  I  was  left 
alone  with  cruel  mocking  shadows. 

O 

The  first  paroxysm  of  grief  was  scarcely  over, 
when  a  carriage  stopped  in  front  of  the  house; 
Mrs.  Le  Bourgois,  one  of  my  kind  patrons,  got 
out  of  it  and  entered  the  door.  She  seemed  to 
bring  sunshine  with  her  handsome  cheery  face. 
She  came  to  where  I  was,  and  in  her  sweet  way 
said : — 

"Lizzie,  I  hear  that  you  are  going  to  New 
York  to  beg  for  money  to  buy  your  freedom.  I 
have  been  thinking  over  the  matter,  and  told  Ma 
it  would  be  a  shame  to  allow  you  to  go  North  to 
beg  for  what  we  should  give  you.  You  have 
many  friends  in  St.  Louis,  and  I  am  going  to 
raise  the  twelve  hundred  dollars  required  among 
them.  I  have  two  hundred  dollars  put  away  for 
a  present ;  am  indebted  to  you  one  hundred  dol 


Behind  tJie  Scenes.  55 

lars ;  mother  owes  you  fifty  dollars,  and  will  add 
another  fifty  to  it;  and  as  I  do  not  want  the 
present,  I  will  make  the  money  a  present  to  yon. 
Don't  start  for  New  York  now  until  I  see  what 
I  can  do  among  your  friends." 

Like  a  ray  of  sunshine  she  came,  and  like  a  ray 
of  sunshine  she  went  away.  The  flowers  no 
longer  were  withered,  drooping.  Again  they 
seemed  to  bud  and  grow  in  fragrance  and  beauty. 
Mrs.  Le  Bourgois,  God  bless  her  dear  good  heart, 
was  more  than  successful.  The  twelve  hundred 
dollars  were  raised,  and  at  last  my  son  and  my 
self  were  free.  Free,  free !  what  a  glorious  ring 
to  the  word.  Free!  the  bitter  heart-struggle 
was  over.  Free !  the  soul  could  go  out  to  heaven 
and  to  God  with  no  chains  to  clog  its  flight  or 
pull  it  down.  Free !  the  earth  wore  a  brighter 
look,  and  the  very  stars  seemed  to  sing  with  joy. 
Yes,  free !  free  by  the  laws  of  man  and  'the  smile 
of  God — and  Heaven  bless  them  who  made  me 
so! 


56  Behind  the  Scenes. 

The  following,  copied  from  the  original  papers, 
contain,  in  brief,  the  history  of  my  emancipa 
tion  : — 

"  I  promise  to  give  Lizzie  and  her  son  George 
their  freedom,  on  the  payment  of  $1200. 

"  ANNE  P.  GARLAND. 

"June  27,  1855." 

"  LIZZY  : — I  send  you  this  note  to  sign  for  the 
sum  of  $75,  and  when  I  give  you  the  whole 
amount  you  will  then  sign  the  other  note  for 
$100. 

"ELLEN  M.  DOAN. 

"  In  the  paper  you  will  find  $25  ;  see  it  is  all 
right  before  the  girl  leaves." 

"  I  have  received  of  Lizzy  Keckley  $950,  which 
I  have  deposited  with  Darby  &  Barksdale  for 
her— $600  on  the  21st  July,  $300  on  the  27th 
and  28th  of  July,  and  $50  on  13th  August,  1855. 

"  I  have  and  shall  make  use  of  said  money  for 
Lizzy's  benefit,  and  hereby  guarantee  to  her  one 


Behind  the  Scenes.  57 

per  cent,  per  month — as  much  more  as  can  be 
made  she  shall  have.  The  one  per  cent.,  as  it 
may  be  checked  out,  I  will  be  responsible  for 
myself,  as  well  as  for  the  whole  amount,  when  it 
shall  be  needed  by  her. 

"  WILLIS  L.  WILLIAMS. 
"ST.  Louis,  13th  August,  1855." 

"Know  all  men  by  these  presents,  that  for  and 
in  consideration  of  the  love  and  affection  we  bear 
towards  our  sister,  Anne  P.  Garland,  of  St.  Louis, 
Missouri,  and  for  the  further  consideration  of  $5 
in  hand  paid,  we  hereby  sell  and  convey  unto  her, 
the  said  Anne  P.  Garland,  a  negro  woman  named 
Lizzie,  and  a  negro  boy,  her  son,  named  George ; 
said  Lizzie  now  resides  at  St.  Louis,  and  is  a 
seamstress,  known  there  as  Lizzie  Garland,  the 
wife  of  a  yellow  man  named  James,  and  called 
James  Keckley ;  said  George  is  a  bright  mulatto 
boy,  and  is  known  in  St.  Louis  as  Garland's  George. 
We  warrant  these  two  slaves  to  be  slaves  for 


58  Behind  the  Scenes. 

life,  but  make  no  representations  as  to  age  or 

health. 

"Witness  our  hands  and  seals,  this  10th  day  of 

August,  1855. 

"JAS.  R.  PUTNAM,  [L.S.] 
"E.  M.  PUTNAM,  [L.S.] 
"A.  BUKWELL,  [L.S.]" 

"  The  State  of  Mississipi,  Warren  } 

C  ss* 
County,  City  of  Vicksburg.        ) 

"  Be  it  remembered,  that  on  the  tenth  day  of 
August,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  fifty-five,  before  me,  Francis 
"N.  Steele,  a  Commissioner,  resident  in  the  city  of 
Yicksburg,  duly  commissioned  and  qualified  by 
the  executive  authority,  and  under  the  laws  of  the 
State  of  Missouri,  to  take  the  acknowledgment 
of  deeds,  etc.,  to  be  used  or  recorded  therein, 
personally  appeared  James  R.  Putnam  and  E.  M. 
Putnam,  his  wife,  and  Armistead  Burwell,  to  me 
known  to  be  the  individuals  named  in,  and  who 


Behind  the  Scenes.  59 

executed  the  foregoing  conveyance,  and  acknow 
ledged  that  they  executed  the  same  for  the 
purposes  therein  mentioned  ;  and  the  E.  M 
Putnam  being  by  me  examined  apart  from  her 
husband,  and  being  fully  acquainted  with  the 
contents  of  the  foregoing  conveyance,  acknow 
ledged  that  she  executed  the  same  freely,  and 
relinquished  her  dower,  and  any  other  claim  she 
might  have  in  arid  to  the  property  therein  men 
tioned,  freely,  and  without  fear,  compulsion,  or 
undue  influence  of  her  said  husband. 

"  In  witness  whereof  I  have  hereunto  set  my 
hand  and  affixed  my  official  seal,  this  10th  day 
of  August,  A.D.  1855. 

[L.S.]  "F.  K  STEELE, 

"  Commissioner  for  Missouri" 

"  Know  all  men  that  I,  Anne  P.  Garland,  of  the 
County  and  City  of  St.  Louis,  State  of  Missouri, 
for  and  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of  $1200,  to 
me  in  hand  paid  this  day  in  cash,  hereby  eman- 


60  Beliind  the  Scenes. 

cipate  my  negro  woman  Lizzie,  and  her  son 
George;  the  said  Lizzie  is  known  in  St.  Louis 
as  the  wife  of  James,  who  is  called  James 
Keckley ;  is  of  light  complexion,  about  37  years 
of  age,  by  trade  a  dress-maker,  and  called  by 
those  who  know  her  Garland's  Lizzie.  The 
said  boy,  George,  is  the  only  child  of  Lizzie, 
is  about  16  years  of  age,  and  is  almost  white, 
and  called  by  those  who  know  him  Garland's 
George. 

"Witness  my  hand  and  seal,  this  13th  day  of 
November,  1855. 

"  ANNE  P.  GARLAND,  [L.S.] 

"  Witness : — JOHN  WICKHAM, 

"WILLIS  L.  WILLIAMS." 

In  St.  Louis  Circuit  Court,  October  Term,  1855. 

November  15,  1855. 
"  State  of  Missouri, 
County  of  St.  Louis. 
"  Be  it  remembered,  that  on  this  fifteenth  day  of 
November,  eighteen  hundred   and  fifty-five,  in 


Behind  the  Scenes.  61 

open  court  came  John  Wickliam  and  Willis  L. 
Williams,  these  two  subscribing  witnesses,  ex 
amined  under  oath  to  that  effect,  proved  the 
execution  and  acknowledgment  of  said  deed  by 
Anne  P.  Garland  to  Lizzie  and  her  son  George, 
which  said  proof  of  acknowledgment  is  entered  on 
the  record  of  the  court  of  that  day. 

"In  testimony  whereof  I  hereto  set  my  hand 
and  affix  the  seal  of  said  court,  at  office  in  the  City 
of  St.  Louis,  the  day  and  year  last  aforesaid. 

[L.S.]  "WM.  J.  HAMMOND,  Clerk." 

"  State  of  Missouri,  ) 

\.  ss. 

County  of  St.  Louis.  ; 

"I,  Wm.  J.  Hammond,  Clerk  of  the  Circuit 
Court  within  and  for  the  county  aforesaid,  certify 
the  foregoing  to  be  a  true  copy  of  a  deed  of  eman 
cipation  from  Anne  P.  Garland  to  Lizzie  and  her 
son  George,  as  fully  as  the  same  remain  in  my 

office. 

•  ^ 

"  In  testimony  whereof  I  hereto  set  my  hand  and 


62  Behind  the  Scenes. 

affix  the  seal  of  said  court,  at  office  in  the  City 
of  St.  Louis,  this  fifteenth  day  of  November, 
1855. 

"Wn.  J.  HAMMOND,  Clerk. 
"  By  WM.  A.  PBNNINGTON,  D.O." 

"  State  of  Missouri,  ) 

( ss' 
County  of  St.  Louis. ; 

"  I,  the  undersigned  Recorder  of  said  county, 
certify  that  the  foregoing  instrument  of  writing 
was  filed  for  record  in  my  office  on  the  14th  day 
of  November,  1855  ;  it  is  truly  recorded  in  Book 
Eo.  169,  page  288. 

"  Witness  my  hand  and  official  seal,  date  last 
aforesaid. 

[L.S.]  "  C.  KEEMLE,  Recorder" 


CHAPTEK  IV. 
IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  SENATOR  JEFFERSON  DAVIS. 

HE  twelve  hundred  dollars  with, 
which  I  purchased  the  freedom  of 
myself  and  son  I  consented  to 
accept  only  as  a  loan.  I  went  to 
work  in  earnest,  and  in  a  short  time  paid  every 
cent  that  was  so  kindly  advanced  by  my  lady 
patrons  of  St  Louis.  All  this  time  my  husband 
was  a  source  of  trouble  to  me,  and  a  burden. 
Too  close  occupation  with  my  needle  had  its 
effects  upon  my  health,  and  feeling  exhausted 
with  work,  I  determined  to  make  a  change.  I 
had  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Keckley;  informed 


64  Behind  the  Scenes. 

him  that  since  he  persisted  in  dissipation  we 
must  separate ;  that  I  was  going  North,  and  that 
I  should  never  live  with  him  again,  at  least  until 
I  had  good  evidence  of  his  reform.  He  was 
rapidly  debasing  himself,  and  although  I  was 
willing  to  work  for  him,  I  was  not  willing  to 
share  his  degradation.  Poor  man;  he  had  his 
faults,  but  over  these  faults  death  has  drawn  a 
veil.  My  husband  is  now  sleeping  in  his  grave, 
and  in  the  silent  grave  I  would  bury  all  un 
pleasant  memories  of  him. 

I  left  St.  Louis  in  the  spring  of  1860, 
taking  the  cars  direct  for  Baltimore,  where 
I  stopped  six  weeks,  attempting  to  realize  a 
sum  of  money  by  forming  classes  of  young 
colored  women,  and  teaching  them  my  system 
of  cutting  and  fitting  dresses.  The  scheme  was 
not  successful,  for  after  six  weeks  of  labor  and 
vexation,  I  left  Baltimore  with  scarcely  money 
enough  to  pay  my  fare  to  Washington.  Arriving 
in  the  capital,  I  sought  and  obtained  work  at  two 


Behind  the  Scenes.  GO 

dollars  and  a  half  per  day.  However,  as  I  was 
notified  that  I  could  only  remain  in  the  city  ten 
days  without  obtaining  a  license  to  do  so,  such 
being  the  law,  and  as  I  did  not  know  whom  to  ap 
ply  to  for  assistance,  I  was  sorely  troubled.  I  also 
had  to  have  some  one  vouch  to  the  authorities  that 
I  was  a  free  woman.  My  means  were  too  scanty, 
and  my  profession  too  precarious  to  warrant  my 
purchasing  license.  In  my  perplexity  I  called  on 
a  lady  for  whom  I  was  sewing,  Miss  Ringold,  a 
member  of  Gen.  Mason's  family,  from  Virginia. 
I  stated  my  case,  and  she  kindly  volunteered  to 
render  me  all  the  assistance  in  her  power.  She 
called  on  Mayor  Burritt  with  me,  and  Miss 
Ringold  succeeded  in  making  an  arrangement  for 
me  to  remain  in  Washington  without  paying  the 
sum  required  for  a  license ;  moreover,  I  was  not 
to  be  molested.  I  rented  apartments  in  a  good 
locality,  and  soon  had  a  good  run  of  custom. 
The  summer  passed,  winter  came,  and  I  was  still 
in  Washington.  Mrs.  Davis,  wife  of  Senator  Jef- 


66  Behind  the  Scenes. 

ferson  Davis,  came  from  the  South  in  November 
of  1860,  with  her  husband.  Learning  that  Mrs. 
Davis  wanted  a  modiste,  I  presented  myself,  and 
was  employed  by  her  on  the  recommendation  of 
one  of  my  patrons  and  her  intimate  friend,  Mrs. 
Captain  Hetsill.  I  went  to  the  house  to  work, 
but  finding  that  they  were  such  late  risers,  and  as 
I  had  to  fit  many  dresses  on  Mrs.  Davis,  I  told 
her  that  I  should  prefer  giving  half  the  day  to 
her,  working  the  other  in  my  own  room  for  some 
of  my  other  lady  patrons.  Mrs.  D.  consented  to 
the  proposition,  and  it  was  arranged  that  I  should 
come  to  her  own  house  every  day  after  12  M. 
It  was  the  winter  before  the  breaking  out  of  that 
fierce  and  bloody  war  between  the  two  sections 
of  the  country;  and  as  Mr.  Davis  occupied  a 
leading  position,  his  house  was  the  resort  of 
politicians  and  statesmen  from  the  South. 
Almost  every  night,  as  I  learned  from  the 
servants  and  other  members  of  the  family,  secret 
meetings  were  held  at  the  house ;  and  some  of 


Behind  the  Scenes.  67 

these  meetings  were  protracted  to  a  very  late 
hour.  The  prospects  of  war  were  freely  discus 
sed  in  my  presence  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Davis  and 
their  friends.  The  holidays  were  approaching, 
and  Mrs.  Davis  kept  me  busy  in  manufacturing 
articles  of  dress  for  herself  and  children.  She 
desired  to  present  Mr.  Da.vis  on  Christmas  with 
a  handsome  dressing-gown.  The  material  was 
purchased,  and  for  weeks  the  work  had  been 
under  way.  Christmas  eve  came,  and  the  gown 
had  been  laid  aside  so  often  that  it  was  still  un 
finished.  I  saw  that  Mrs.  D.  was  anxious  to 
have  it  completed,  so  I  volunteered  to  remain 
and  work  on  it.  Wearily  the  hours  dragged  on, 
but  there  was  no  rest  for  my  busy  fingers.  I 
persevered  in  my  task,  notwithstanding  my  head 
was  aching.  Mrs.  Davis  was  busy  in  the  adjoin 
ing  room,  arranging  the  Christmas  tree  for  the 
children.  I  looked  at  the  clock,  and  the  hands 
pointed  to  a  quarter  of  twelve.  I  wras  arranging 
the  cords  on  the  gown  when  the  Senator  came 


68  Behind  the  Scenes. 

in;  he  looked  somewhat  careworn,  and  his  step 
seemed  to  be  a  little  nervous.  lie  leaned 
against  the  door,  and  expressed  his  admiration  of 
the  Christmas  tree,  but  there  was  no  smile  on  his 
face.  Turning  round,  he  saw  me  sitting  in  the 
adjoining  room,  and  quickly  exclaimed  : 

"  That  you,  Lizzie  !  why  are  you  here  so  late  ? 
Still  at  work ;  I  hope  that  Mrs.  Davis  is  not  too 
exacting !" 

"  No,  sir,"  I  answered.  "  Mrs.  Davis  was  very 
anxious  to  have  this  gown  finished  to-night,  and 
I  volunteered  to  remain  and  complete  it." 

"  "Well,  well,  the  case  must  be  urgent,"  and  he 
came  slowly  towards  me,  took  the  gown  in  his 
hand,  and  asked  the  color  of  the  silk,  as  he  said 
the  gas-light  was  so  deceptive  to  his  old  eyes. 

"  It  is  a  drab  changeable  silk,  Mr.  Davis,"  I 
answered ;  and  might  have  added  that  it  was  rich 
and  handsome,  but  did  not,  well  knowing-  that  he 

/ 

would  make  the  discovery  in  the  morning. 
He  smiled  curiously,  but  turned  and  walked 


Behind  the  Scenes.  69 

from  the  room  without  another  question.  He 
inferred  that  the  gown  was  for  him,  that  it  was  tc 
be  the  Christmas  present  from  his  wife,  and  he 
did  not  wish  to  destroy  the  pleasure  that  she 
would  experience  in  believing  that  the  gift  would 
prove  a  surprise.  In  this  respect,  as  in  many 
others,  he  always  appeared  to  rue  as  a  thoughtful, 
considerate  man  in  the  domestic  circle.  As  the 
clock  struck  twelve  I  finished  the  gown,  little 
dreaming  of  the  future  that  was  before  it.  It 
was  worn,  I  have  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  by 
Mr.  Davis  during  the  stormy  years  that  he  was 
the  President  of  the  Confederate  States. 

The  holidays  passed,  and  before  the  close  of 
January  the  war  was  discussed  in  Mr.  Da  vis's 
family  as  an  event  certain  to  happen  in  the 
future.  Mrs.  Davis  was  warmly  attached  to 
Washington,  and  I  often  heard  her  say  that  she 
disliked  the  idea  of  breaking  up  old  associations, 
and  going  South  to  suffer  from  trouble  and  de 
privation.  One  day,  while  discussing  the  ques- 


70  Behind  the  Scenes. 

tion  in  my  presence  with  one  of  her  intimate 
friends,  she  exclaimed  :  "I  would  rather  remain 
in  Washington  and  be  kicked  about,  than  go 
South  and  be  Mrs.  President."  Her  friend  ex 
pressed  surprise  at  the  remark,  and  Mrs.  Davis 
insisted  that  the  opinion  was  an  honest  one. 

While  dressing  her  one  day,  she  said  to  me  : 
"  Lizzie,  you  are  so  very  handy  that  I  should  like 
to  take  you  South  with  me." 

"When  do  you  go  South,  Mrs.  Davis?"  I 
inquired. 

"Oh,  I  cannot  tell  just  now,  but  it  will  be 
soon.  You  know  there  is  going  to  be  war, 
Lizzie?" 


"But  I  tell  you  yes." 

"Who  will  go  to  war?"  I  asked. 

"  The  North  and  South,"  was  her  ready  reply. 
"  The  Southern  people  will  not  submit  to  the  hu 
miliating  demands  of  the  Abolition  party  ;  they 
will  fight  first." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  71 

"  And  which  do  you  think  will  whip  ?  " 

"  The  South,  of  course.  The  South  is  impul 
sive,  is  in  earnest,  and  the  Southern  soldiers  will 
fight  to  conquer.  The  North  will  yield,  when  it 
sees  the  South  is  in  earnest,  rather  than  engage 
in  a  long  and  bloody  war." 

"But,  Mrs.  Davis,  are  you  certain  that  there 
will  be  war?" 

"Certain!— I  know  it.  You  had  better  go 
South  with  me;  I  will  take  good  care  of  you. 
Besides,  when  the  war  breaks  out,  the  colored 
people  will  suffer  in  the  North.  The  Northern 
people  will  look  upon  them  as  the  cause  of  the 
war,  and  I  fear,  in  their  exasperation,  will  be 
inclined  to  treat  you  harshly.  Then,  I  may 
come  back  to  Washington  in  a  few  months,  and 
live  in  the  White  House.  The  Southern  people 
talk  of  choosing  Mr.  Davis  for  their  President. 
In  fact,  it  may  be  considered  settled  that  he  will 
be  their  President.  As  soon  as  we  go  South  and 
secede  from  the  other  States,  we  will  raise  an 


72  Behind  the  Scenes. 

army  and  march  on  Washington,  and  then  I 
shall  -Kve  in  the  White  House." 

I  was  bewildered  with  what  I  heard.  I  had 
served  Mrs.  Davis  faithfully,  and  she  had  learned 
to  place  the  greatest  confidence  in  me.  At  first 
I  was  almost  tempted  to  go  South  with  her,  for 
her  reasoning  seemed  plausible.  At  the  time  the 
conversation  was  closed,  with  my  promise  to  con 
sider  the  question. 

I  thought  over  the  question  much,  and  the 
more  I  thought  the  less  inclined  I  felt  to  accept 
the  proposition  so  kindly  made  by  Mrs.  Davis. 
I  knew  the  North  to  be  strong,  and  believed  that 
the  people  would  fight  for  the  flag  that  they  pre 
tended  to  venerate  so  highly.  The  Republican 
party  had  just  emerged  from  a  heated  campaign, 
flushed  with  victory,  and  I  could  not  think  that 
the  hosts  composing  the  party  would  quietly 
yield  all  they  had  gained  in  the  Presidential  can 
vass.  A  show  of  war  from  the  South,  I  felt, 
would  lead  to  actual  war  in  the  North ;  and  with 


Behind  tJie  Scenes.  73 

the  two  sections  bitterly  arrayed  against  each 
other,  I  preferred  to  cast  my  lot  among  the  peo 
ple  of  the  North. 

I  parted  with  Mrs.  Davis  kindly,  half  promis 
ing  to  join  her  in  the  South  if  further  delibera 
tion  should  induce  me  to  change  my  views.  A 
few  weeks  before  she  left  Washington  I  made 
two  chintz  wrappers  for  her.  She  said  that  she 
must  give  up  expensive  dressing  for  a  while ;  arid 
that  she,  with  the  Southern  people,  now  that 
war  was  imminent,  must  learn  to  practise  lessons 
of  economy.  She  left  some  fine  needle-work  in 
my  hands,  which  I  finished,  and  forwarded  to 
her  at  Montgomery,  Alabama,  in  the  month  of 
June,  through  the  assistance  of  Mrs.  Emory,  one 
of  her  oldest  and  best  friends. 

Since  bidding  them  good-by  at  Washington, 
early  in  the  year  1860,  I  have  never  met  any  of 
the  Davis  family.  Years  of  excitement,  years  of 
bloodshed,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  graves 
intervene  between  the  months  I  spent  in  the 


74  Behind  the  Scenes. 

family  and  now.  The  years  have  brought  many 
changes ;  and  in  view  of  these  terrible  changes 
even  I,  who  was  once  a  slave,  who  have  been 
punished  with  the  cruel  lash,  who  have  experi 
enced  the  heart  and  soul  tortures  of  a  slave's  life, 
can  say  to  Mr.  Jefferson  Davis,  "Peace!  you 
have  suffered !  Go  in  peace." 

In  the  winter  of  1865  I  was  in  Chicago, 
and  one  day  visited  the  great  charity  fair  held 
for  the  benefit  of  the  families  of  those  soldiers 
who  were  killed  or  wounded  during  the  war. 
In  one  part  of  the  building  was  a  wax  figure 
of  Jefferson  Davis,  wearing  over  his  other  gar 
ments  the  dress  in  which  it  was  reported  that  he 
was  captured.  There  was  always  a  great  crowd 
around  this  figure,  and  I  was  naturally  attracted 
towards  it.  I  worked  my  way  to  the  figure,  and 
in  examining  the  dress  made  the  pleasing  dis 
covery  that  it  was  one  of  the  chintz  wrap 
pers  that  I  had  made  for  Mrs.  Davis,  a  short 
time  before  she  departed  from  Washington  for 


Behind  the  Scenes.  75 

the  South.  When  it  was  announced  that  1 
recognized  the  dress  as  one  that  I  had  made 
for  the  wife  of  the  late  Confederate  President 
there  was  great  cheering  and  excitement,  and 
I  at  onee  became  an  object  of  the  deepest 
curiosity.  Great  crowds  followed  me,  and  in 
order  to  escape  from  the  embarrassing  situation 
I  left  the  building. 

I  believe  it  now  is  pretty  well  established  that 
Mr.  Davis  had  on  a  water-proof  cloak  instead  of 
a  dress,  as  first  reported,  when  he  was  captured. 
This  does  not  invalidate  any  portion  of  my  story. 
The  dress  on  the  wax  figure  at  the  fair  in 
Chicago  unquestionably  was  one  of  the  chintz 
wrappers  that  I  made  for  Mrs.  Davis  in  January, 
1860,  in  Washington ;  and  I  infer,  since  it  was  not 
found  on  the  body  of  the  fugitive  President  of 
the  South,  it  was  taken  from  the  trunks  of  Mrs. 
Davis,  captured  at  the  same  time.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  the  coincidence  is  none  the  less  striking  and 
curious. 


CHAPTEK  Y. 
MY  INTRODUCTION  TO  MRS.  LINCOLN. 

IYER  since  arriving  in  Washington  I 
had  a  great  desire  to  work  for  the 
ladies  of  the  "White  House,  and  to 
accomplish  this  end  I  was  ready  to 
make  almost  any  sacrifice  consistent  with  pro 
priety.  Work  came  in  slowly,  and  I  was  be 
ginning  to  feel  very  much  embarrassed,  for  I  did 
not  know  how  I  was  to  meet  the  bills  staring  me 
in  the  face.  It  is  true,  the  bills  were  small,  but 
then  they  were  formidable  to  me,  who  had  little 
or  nothing  to  pay  them  with.  While  in  this  situa 
tion  I  called  at  the  Ringolds,  where  I  met  Mrs. 


Befwnd  the  Scenes.  77 

Captain  Lee.  Mrs.  L.  was  in  a  state  bordering  on 
excitement,  as  the  great  event  of  the  season,  the 
dinner-party  given  in  honor  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  was  sdon  to  come  off,  and  she  must  have 
a  dress  suitable  for  the  occasion.  The  silk  had 
been  purchased,  but  a  dress-maker  had  not  yet 
been  found.  Miss  Ringold  recommended  me, 
and  I  received  the  order  to  make  the  dress. 
When  I  called  on  Mrs.  Lee  the  next  day,  her 
husband  was  in  the  room,  and  handing  me  a  roll 
of  bank  bills,  amounting  to  one  hundred  dollars, 
he  requested  me  to  purchase  the  trimmings,  and 
to  spare  no  expense  in  making  a  selection.  With 
the  money  in  my  pocket  I  went  out  in  the  street, 
entered  the  store  of  Harper  &  Mitchell,  and 
asked  to  look  at  their  laces.  Mr.  Harper  waited 
on  me  himself,  and  was  polite  and  kind.  When 
I  asked  permission  to  carry  the  laces  to  Mrs.  Lee, 
in  order  to  learn  whether  she  could  approve  my 
selection  or  not,  he  gave  a  ready  assent.  When  I 
reminded  him  that  I  was  a  stranger,  and  that  the 


78  Behind  the  Scenes. 

goods  were  valuable,  he  remarked  that  he  was 
not  afraid  to  trust  me — that  he  believed  my  face 
was  the  index  to  an  honest  heart.  It  was 
pleasant  to  be  spoken  to  thus,  and  I  shall  never 
forget  the  kind  words  of  Mr.  Harper.  I  often 
recall  them,  for  they  are  associated  with  the  dawn 
of  a  brighter  period  in  my  dark  life.  I  pur 
chased  the  trimmings,  and  Mr.  Harper  allowed 
me  a  commission  of  twenty-five  dollars  on  the 
purchase.  The  dress  was  done  in  time,  and  it 
gave  complete  satisfaction.  Mrs.  Lee  attracted 
great  attention  at  the  dinner-party,  and  her 
elegant  dress  proved  a  good  card  for  me.  I  re 
ceived  numerous  orders,  and  was  relieved  from 
all  pecuniary  embarrassments.  One  of  my 
patrons  was  Mrs.  Gen.  McClean,  a  daughter  of 
Gen.  Sumner.  One  day  when  I  was  very  busy, 
Mrs.  McC.  drove  up  to  my  apartments,  came  in 
where  I  was  engaged  with  my  needle,  and  in  her 
emphatic  way  said : 

"  Lizzie,  I  am  invited  to  dine  at  Willard's  on 


Behind  the  Scenes.  79 

next  Sunday,  and  positively  I  have  not  a  dre&s 
tit  to  wear  on  the  occasion.  I  have  just  pur 
chased  material,  and  you  must  commence  work 
on  it  right  away." 

"  But  Mrs.  MeClean,"  I  replied,  "  I  have  more 
work  now  promised  than  I  can  do.  It  is  impos 
sible  for  me  to  make  a  dress  for  you  to  wear  on 
Sunday  next." 

"  Pshaw  !  Nothing  is  impossible.  I  must 
have  the  dress  made  by  Sunday ;"  and  she  spoke 
with  some  impatience. 

"I  am  sorry,"  I  began,  but- she  interrupted 
me.  •„ 

"  Now  don't  say  no  again.  1  tell  you  that 
you  must  make  the  dress.  I  have  often  heard 
you  say  that  you  would  like  to  work  for  the 
ladies  of  the  "White  House.  Well,  I  have  it  in 
my  power  to  obtain  you  this  privilege.  I  know 
Mrs.  Lincoln  well,  and  you  shall  make  a  dress 
for  her  provided  you  finish  mine  in  time  to  wear 
at  dinner  on  Sunday." 


80  Behind  the  Scenes. 

The  inducement  was  the  best  that  could  have 
been  offered.  I  would  undertake  the  dress  if  I 
should  have  to  sit  up  all  night— every  night,  to 
make  my  pledge  good.  I  sent  out  and  employed 
assistants,  and,  after  much  worry  and  trouble,  the 
dress  was  completed  to  the  satisfaction  of  Mrs. 
McClean.  It  appears  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  upset 
a  cup  of  coffee  on  the  dress  she  designed  wearing 
on  the  evening  of  the  reception  after  the  inaugu 
ration  of  Abraham  Lincoln  as  President  of  the 
United  States,  which  rendered  it  necessary  that 
she  should  have  a  new  one  for  the  occasion.  On 
asking  Mrs.  McClean  who  her  dress-maker  was, 
that  lady  promptly  informed  her, 

"Lizzie  Keckley." 

"Lizzie  Keckley?  The  name  is  familiar  to 
me.  She  used  to  \vork  for  some  of  my  lady 
friends  in  St.  Louis,  and  they  spoke  well  of  her. 
Can  you  recommend  her  to  me  ? " 

"  With  confidence.  Shall  I  send  her  to 
you?" 


Behind  the  Scenes.  81 

"  If  yon  please.  I  shall  feel  under  many  ob 
ligations  for  your  kindness." 

The  next  Sunday  Mrs.  McClean  sent  me  a 
message  to  call  at  her  house  at  four  o'clock  P.M., 
that  day.  As  she  did  not  state  why  I  was  to 
call,  I  determined  to  wait  till  Monday  morning. 
Monday  morning  came,  and  nine  o'clock  found 
me  at  Mrs.  McC.'s  house.  The  streets  of  the 
capital  were  thronged  with  people,  for  this  was 
Inauguration  day.  A  new  President,  a  man  of 
the  people,  from  the  broad  prairies  of  the  West, 
was  to  accept  the  solemn  oath  of  office,  was  to 
assume  the  responsibilities  attached  to  the  high 
position  of  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  United  States. 
Never  was  sucli  deep  interest  felt  in  the  inau 
guration  proceedings  as  was  felt  to-day ;  for 
threats  of  assassination  had  been  made,  and  every 
breeze  from  the  South  came  heavily  laden  with 
the  rumors  of  war.  Around  Willard's  hotel 
swayed  an  excited  crowd,  and  it  was  with  the 

utmost  difficulty  that  I  worked  my  way  to  the 

4* 


82  Behind  the  Scenes. 

house  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  occu 
pied  by  the  McCleans.  Mrs.  McClean  was  out, 
but  presently  an  aide  on  General  McClean 's  staff 
called,  and  informed  me  that  I  was  wanted  at 
Willard's.  I  crossed  the  street,  and  on  entering 
the  hotel  was  met  by  Mrs.  McClean,  who  greeted 
me: 

"  Lizzie,  why  did  you  not  come  yesterday,  as 
I  requested  ?  Mrs.  Lincoln  wanted  to  see  you, 
but  I  fear  that  now  you  are  too  late." 

"I  am  sorry,  Mrs.  McClean.  You  did  not 
say  what  you  wanted  with  me  yesterday,  so  I 
judged  that  this  morning  would  do  as  well." 

"You  should  have  come  yesterday,"  she  in 
sisted.  "  Go  up  to  Mrs.  Lincoln's  room  " — giv 
ing  me  the  number — "  she  may  find  use  for  you 
yet." 

With  a  nervous  step  I  passed  on,  and  knocked 
at  Mrs.  Lincoln's  door.  A  cheery  voice  bade 
me  come 'in,  and  a  lady,  inclined  to  stoutness, 
about  forty  years  of  age,  stood  before  me. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  83 

"You  are  Lizzie  Keckley,  I  believe." 

I  bowed  assent. 

"  The  dress-maker  that  Mrs.  McClean  recom 
mended  ? " 

"Yes,  madam." 

"Yery  well;  I  have  not  time  to  talk  to  you 
now,  but  would  like  to  have  you  call  at  the 
"White  House,  at  eight  o'clock  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  where  I  shall  then  be." 

I  bowed  myself  out  of  the  room,  and  returned 
to  my  apartments.  The  day  passed  slowly,  for 
I  could  not  help  but  speculate  in  relation  to  the 
appointed  interview  for  the  morrow.  My  long- 
cherished  hope  was  about  to  be  realized,  and  I 
could  not  rest. 

Tuesday  morning,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  crossed 
the  threshold  of  the  White  House  for  the  first 
time.  I  was  shown  into  a  waiting-room,  and 
informed  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  at  breakfast. 
In  the  waiting-room  I  found  no  less  than  three 
mantua-makers  waiting  for  an  interview  with  the 


84:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

wife  of  the  new  President.  It  seems  that  Mrs. 
Lincoln  had  told  several  of  her  lady  friends  that 
she  had  urgent  need  for  a  dress-maker,  and  that 
each  of  these  friends  had  sent  her  mantua-maker 
to  the  White  House.  Hope  fell  at  once.  With 
so  many  rivals  .for  the  position  sought  after,  I  re 
garded  my  chances  for  success  as  .extremely  doubt 
ful.  I  wras  the  last  one  summoned  to  Mrs.  Lin 
coln's  presence.  All  the  others  had  a  hearing, 
and  were  dismissed.  I  went  up-stairs  timidly, 
and  entering  the  room  with  nervous  step,  dis 
covered  the  wife  of  the  President  standing  by  a 
window,  looking  out,  and  engaged  in  lively  con 
versation  with  a  lady,  Mrs.  Grimsly,  as  I  after 
wards  learned.  Mrs.  L.  came  forward,  and  greet 
ed  me  warmly. 

"  You  have  come  at  -last.  Mrs.  Keckley,  who 
have  you  worked  for  in  the  city  ?" 

"  Among  others,  Mrs.  Senator  Davis  has  been 
one  of  my  best  patrons,"  was  my  reply. 

"  Mrs.  Davis !     So  you  have  worked  for  her, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  85 

have  you  ?     Of  course  you  gave  satisfaction ;  so 
far,  good.     Can  you  do  ray  work  ? " 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Lincoln.  Will  you  have  much 
work  for  me  to  do  ? " 

"  That,  Mrs.  Keckley,  will  depend  altogether 
upon  your  prices.  I  trust  that  your  terms  are 
reasonable.  I  cannot  afford  to  be  extravagant. 
We  are  just  from  the  West,  and  are  poor.  If  you 
do  not  charge  too  much,  I  shall  be  able  to  give 
you  all  my  work." 

"I  do  not  think  there  will  be  any  difficulty 
about  charges,  Mrs.  Lincoln ;  my  terms  are 
reasonable." 

"  Well,  if  you  will  work  cheap,  you  shall  have 
plenty  to  do.  I  can't  afford  to  pay  big  prices,  so 
I  frankly  tell  you  so  in  the  beginning." 

The  terms  were  satisfactorily  arranged,  and  I 
measured  Mrs.  Lincoln,  took  the  dress  with  me, 
a  bright  rose-colored  moire-antique,  and  returned 
the  next  day  to  n't  it  on  her.  A  number  of  ladies 
were  in  the  room,  all  making  preparations  for 


86  Behind  the  Scenes. 

the  levee  to  come  off  on  Friday  night.  These 
ladies,  I  learned,  were  relatives  of  Mrs.  L.'s, — Mrs. 
Edwards  and  Mrs.  Kellogg,  her  own  sisters,  and 
Elizabeth  Edwards  and  Julia  Baker,  her  nieces. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  this  morning  was  dressed  in  a  cash 
mere  wrapper,  quilted  down  the  front ;  and  she 
wore  a  simple  head-dress.  The  other  ladies  wore 
morning  robes. 

I  was  hard  at  work  on  the  dress,  when  I  was 
informed  that  the  ]evee  had  been  postponed  from 
Friday  night  till  Tuesday  night.  This,  of 
course,  gave  me  more  time  to  complete  my  task. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  sent  for  me,  and  suggested  some 
alteration  in  style,  which  was  made.  She  also 
requested  that  I  make  a  waist  of  blue  watered 
silk  for  Mrs.  Grimsly,  as  work  on  the  dress 
would  not  require  all  my  time. 

Tuesday  evening  came,  and  I  had  taken  the 
last  stitches  on  the  dress.  I  folded  it  and  carried 
it  to  the  White  House,  with  the  waist  for  Mrs. 
Grimsly.  When  I  went  up-stairs,  I  found  the 


Behind  the  Scenes.  87 

ladies  in  a  terrible  state  of  excitement.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  was  protesting  that  she  could  not  go 
down,  for  the  reason  that  she  had  nothing  to 
wear. 

"  Mrs.  Keckley,  you  have  disappointed  me — de 
ceived  me.  Why  do  you  bring  my  dress  at  this 
late  hour  ? " 

"  Because  I  have  just  finished  it,  and  I  thought 
i  should  be  in  time." 

"  But  you  are  not  in  time,  Mrs.  Keckley ;  you 
have  bitterly  disappointed  me.  I  have  no  time 
now  to  dress,  and,  what  is  more,  I  will  not  dress, 
and  go  down-stairs." 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  have  disappointed  you,  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  for  I  intended  to  be  in  time.  Will  you 
let  me  dress  you  ?  I  can  have  you  ready  in  a 
few  minutes." 

"  No,  I  won't  be  dressed.  I  will  stay  in  my 
room.  Mr.  Lincoln  can  go  down  with  the  other 
ladies." 

"  But  there  is  plenty  of  time  for  you  to  dress, 


88  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Mary,"  joined  in  Mrs.  Grimsly  and  Mrs.  Edwards. 
"  Let  Mrs.  Keckley  assist  you,  and  she  will  soon 
have  you  ready." 

Thus  urged,  she  consented.  I  dressed  her  hair, 
and  arranged  the  dress  on  her.  It  fitted  nicely, 
and  she  was  pleased.  Mr.  Lincoln  came  in,  threw 
himself  on  the  sofa,  laughed  with  Willie  and 
little  Tad,  and  then  commenced  pulling  on  his 
gloves,  quoting  poetry  all  the  while. 

"  You  seem  to  be  in  a  poetical  mood  to-night," 
said  his  wife. 

"  Yes,  mother,  these  are  poetical  times,"  was 
his  pleasant  reply.  "  I  declare,  you  look  charm 
ing  in  that  dress.  Mrs.  Keckley  has  met  with 
great  success."  And  then  he  proceeded  to  com 
pliment  the  other  ladies 

Mrs.  Lincoln  looked  elegant  in  her  rose-colored 
moire-antique.  She  wore  a  pearl  necklace,  pearl 
ear-rings,  pearl  bracelets,  and  red  roses  in  her 
hair.  Mrs.  Baker  was  dressed  in  lemon-colored 
silk  ;  Mrs.  Kellogg  in  a  drab  silk,  ashes  of  rose ; 


Behind  the  Scenes.  89 

Mrs.  Edwards  in  a  brown  and  black  silk ;  Miss 
Edwards  in  crimson,  and  Mrs.  Grimsly  in  blue 
watered  silk.  Just  before  starting  down-stairs, 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  lace  handkerchief  was  the  object 
of  search.  It  had  been  displaced  by  Tad,  who 
was  mischievous,  and  hard  to  restrain.  The 
handkerchief  found,  all  became  serene.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  took  the  President's  arm,  and  with  smi 
ling  face  led  the  train  below.  I  was  surprised  at 
her  grace  and  composure.  1  had  heard  so  much, 
in  current  and  malicious  report,  of  her  low  life, 
of  her  ignorance  and  vulgarity,  that  I  expected 
to  see  her  embarrassed  on  this  occasion.  Report, 
I  soon  saw,  was  wrong.  TSTo  queen,  accustomed 
to  the  usages  of  royalty  all  her  life,  could  have 
comported  herself  with  more  calmness  and  dig 
nity  than  did  the  wife  of  the  President.  She  was 
confident  and  self-possessed,  and  confidence  al 
ways  gives  grace. 

This  levee  was  a  brilliant  one,  and  the  only 
one  of  the  season.     I  became  the  regular  modiste 


90  Behind  the  Scenes. 

of  Mrs.  Lincoln.  I  made  fifteen  or  sixteen 
dresses  for  her  during  the  spring  and  early  part 
of  the  summer,  when  she  left  Washington ; 
spending  the  hot  weather  at  Saratoga,  Long 
Branch,  and  other  places.  In  the  mean  time  I 
was  employed  by  Mrs.  Senator  Douglas,  one  of 
the  loveliest  ladies  that  I  ever  met,  Mrs.  Secretary 
Wells,  Mrs.  Secretary  Stanton,  and  others.  Mrs. 
Douglas  always  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  with 
excellent  taste,  and  several  of  the  leading  ladies 
of  Washington  society  were  extremely  jealous  of 
her  superior  attractions. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
WILLIE  LINCOLN'S  DEATH-BED. 


ES.  LINCOLN  returned  to  Wash 
ington  in  November,  and  again 
duty  called  me  to  the  White  House. 
The  war  was  new  in  progress,  and 
every  day  brought  stirring  news  from  the  front 
— the  front,  where  the  Gray  opposed  the  Blue, 
where  flashed  the  bright  sabre  in  the  sunshine, 
where  were  heard  the  angry  notes  of  battle,  the 
deep  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  fearful  rattle  of  mus 
ketry  ;  where  new  graves  were  being  made  every 
day,  where  brother  forgot  a  mother's  early  bless- 
ino-  and  sought  the  life-blood  of  brother,  and 

o  ~ 

friend   raised   the   deadly   knife   against   friend. 


92  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Oh,  the  front,  with  its  stirring  battle-seer  es ! 
Oh,  the  front,  with  its  ghastly  heaps  of  dead ! 
The  life  of  the  nation  was  at  stake ;  and  when  the 
land  was  full  of  sorrow,  there  could  not  he  much 
gayety  at  the  capital.  The  days  passed  quietly 
with  me.  I  soon  learned  that  some  people  had  an 
intense  desire  to  penetrate  the  inner  circle  of  the 
White  House.  No  President  and  his  family, 
heretofore  occupying  this  mansion,  ever  excited 
so  much  curiosity  as  the  present  incumbents. 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  grown  up  in  the  wilds  of  the 
West,  and  evil  report  had  said  much  of  him  and 
his  wife.  The  polite  world  wTas  shocked,  and  the 
tendency  to  exaggerate  intensified  curiosity.  As 
soon  as  it  was  known  that  I  was  the  modiste  of 
Mrs.  Lincoln,  parties  crowded  around  and  affect 
ed  friendship  for  me,  hoping  to  induce  me  to  be 
tray  the  secrets  of  the  domestic  circle.  One  day 
a  woman,  I  will  not  call  her  a  lady,  drove  up  to 
my  rooms,  gave  me  an  order  to  make  a  dress,  and 
insisted  on  partly  paying  me  in  advance.  She 


Behind  the  /Scenes.  93 

called  on  me  every  day,  and  was  exceedingly 
kind.  When  she  came  to  take  her  dress  away, 
she  cautiously  remarked : 

"  Mrs.  Keckley,  you  know  Mrs.  Lincoln  ? " 

"  Yes."  , 

"  You  are  her  modiste ;  are  you  not  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  know  her  very  well ;  do  you  not  ? " 

"  I  am  with  her  every  day  or  twro." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  would  have  some  influ 
ence  with  her  ? " 

"  I  cannot  say.  Mrs.  Lincoln,  I  presume, 
would  listen  to  anything  I  should  suggest,  but 
whether  she  would  be  influenced  by  a  suggestion 
of  mine  is  another  question." 

"  I  am  sure  that  you  could  influence  her,  Mrs. 
Keckley.  Now  listen ;  I  have  a  proposition  to 
make.  I  have  a  great  desire  to  become  an  in 
mate  of  the  White  House.  I  have  heard  so 
much  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  goodness  that  I  should 
like  to  be  near  him ;  and  if  I  can  enter  the 


94  Behind  the  Scenes. 

White  House  no  other  way,  I  am  willing  to  go 
as  a  menial.  My  dear  Mrs.  Keckley,  will  you 
not  recommend  me  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  as  a  friend 
of  yours  out  of  employment,  and  ask  her  to  take 
me  as  a  chambermaid  ?  If  you  will  do  this  you 
shall  be  well  rewarded.  It  may  be  w^orth  several 
thousand  dollars  to  you  in  time." 

I  looked  at  the  woman  in  amazement.  A 
bribe,  and  to  betray  the  confidence  of  my 
employer !  Turning  to  her  with  a  glance  of 
scorn,  I  said : 

"  Madam,  you  are  mistaken  in  regard  to  my 
character.  Sooner  than  betray  the  trust  of  a 
friend,  I  would  throw  myself  into  the  Potomac 
river.  I  am  not  so  base  as  that.  Pardon  me, 
but  there  is  the  door,  and  I  trust  that  you  will 
never  enter  my  room  again." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  in  deep  confusion,  and 
passed  through  the  door,  murmuring :  "  Very 
well ;  you  will  live  to  regret  your  action  to 
day." 


Behind  the  Seems.  95 

"  Never,  never  !  "  I  exclaimed,  and  closed  the 
door  after  her  with  a  bang.  I  afterwards  learned 
that  this  woman  was  an  actress,  and  that  her 
object  was  to  enter  the  White  House  as  a  ser 
vant,  learn  its  secrets,  and  then  publish  a  scan 
dal  to  the  world.  I  do  not  give  her  name,  for 
such  publicity  would  wound  the  sensitive  feel 
ings  of  friends,  who  would  have  to  share  her 
disgrace,  without  being  responsible  for  her  faults. 
I  simply  record  the  incident  to  show  how  I 
often  was  approached  by  unprincipled  parties. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  I  indignantly  re 
fused  every  bribe  offered. 

The  first  public  appearance  of  Mrs.  Lincoln  that 
winter  was  at  the  reception  on  ]S"ew  Year's  Day. 
This  reception  was  shortly  followed  by  a  brilliant 
levee.  The  day  after  the  levee  I  went  to  the 
White  House,  and  while  fitting  a  dress  to  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  she  said: 

"Lizabeth" — she  had  learned  to  drop  the  E— 
"Lizabeth,  I  have  an  idea.  These  are  war  times, 


96  Behind  the  Scenes. 

and  we  must  be  as  economical  as  possible.  You 
know  the  President  is  expected  to  give  a  series 
of  state  dinners  every  winter,  and  these  dinners 
are  very  costly ;  ]S"ow  I  want  to  avoid  this  ex 
pense  ;  and  my  idea  is,  that  if  I  give  three  large 
receptions,  the  state  dinners  can  be  scratched 
from  the  programme.  What  do  you  think,  Liza- 
beth  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  you  are  right,  Mrs.  Lincoln." 
"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.     If  I  can  make 
Mr.  Lincoln  take  the  same  view  of  the  case,  I 
shall  not  fail  to  put  the  idea  into  practice." 

Before  I  left  her  room  that  day,  Mr.  Lincoln 
came  in.  She  at  once  stated  the  case  to  him. 
He  pondered  the  question  a  few  moments  before 
answering. 

"  Mother,  I  am  afraid  your  plan  will  not  work." 
"  But  it  will  work,  if  you  will  only  determine 
that  it  shall  work." 

"  It  is  breaking  in  on  the  regular  custom,"  he 
mildly  replied. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  97 

"  But  you  forget,  father,  these  are  war  times, 
and  old  customs  can  be  done  away  with  for  the 
once.  The  idea  is  economical,  you  must  admit." 

"  Yes,  mother,  but  we  must  think  of  something 
besides  economy." 

"  1  do  think  of  something  else.  Public  recep 
tions  are  more  democratic  than  stupid  state  din 
ners — are  more  in  keeping  with  the  spirit  of  the 
institutions  of  our  country,  as  you  would  say  if 
called  upon  to  make  a  stump  speech.  There  are 
a  great  many  strangers  in  the  city,  foreigners 
and  others,  whom  we  can  entertain  at  our  re 
ceptions,  but  whom  we  cannot  invite  to  our 
dinners." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  mother.  You  argue 
the  point  well.  I  think  that  we  shall  have  to 
decide  on  the  receptions." 

So  the  day  was  carried.  The  question  was 
decided,  and  arrangements  were  made  for  the  first 
reception.  It  now  was  January,  and  cards  were 

issued  for  February. 
5 


98  Behind  tlie  Scenes. 

The  children,  Tad  and  Willie,  were  constantly 
receiving  presents.  Willie  was  so  delighted  with 
a  little  pony,  that  he  insisted  on  riding  it  every 
day.  The  weather  was  changeable,  and  exposure 
resulted  in  a  severe  cold,  which  deepened  into 
fever.  He  was  very  sick,  and  I  was  summoned 
to  his  bedside.  It  was  sad  to  see  the  poor  boy 
Buffer.  Always  of  a  delicate  constitution,  he 
could  not  resist  the  strong  inroads  of  disease. 
The  days  dragged  wearily  by,  and  he  grew  weak 
er  and  more  shadow-like.  He  was  his  mother's 
favorite  child,  and  she  doted  on  him.  It  grieved 
her  heart  sorely  to  see  him  suffer.  When  able  to 
be  about,  he  was  almost  constantly  by  her  side. 
When  I  would  go  in  her  room,  almost  always  I 
found  blue-eyed  Willie  there,  reading  from  an 
open  book,  or  curled  up  in  a  chair  with  pencil 
and  paper  in  hand.  He  had  decidedly  a  literary 
taste,  and  was  a  studious  boy.  A  short  time 
before  his  death  he  wrote  this  simple  little 
poem : 


Behind  the  Scenes.  99 

"WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  October  30,  1861. 
"  DEAR  Sra  : — I  enclose  you  my  first  attempt  at 
poetry. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"Wn.  W.  LINCOLN. 
'  To  the  Editor  of  the  National  Republican." 

LIKES 
OX  THE  DEATH  OF  COLONEL  EDWARD  BAKER. 

THERE  was  no  patriot  like  Bakor, 

So  noble  and  so  true ; 
He  fell  as  a  soldier  on  the  field, 

His  face  to  the  sky  of  blue. 

His  voice  is  silent  in  the  hall 

Which  oft  his  presence  graced ; 
No  more  he'll  hear  the  loud  acclaim 

Which  rang  from  place  to  place. 

No  squeamish  notions  filled  his  breast, 

The  Union  was  his  theme  ; 
No  surrender  and  np  compromise," 

His  day-thought  and  night's  dream. 


100  Behind  the  Scenes. 

His  Country  has  her  part  to  pay 

To'rds  those  he  has  left  behind ; 
His  widow  and  his  children  all, 

She  must  always  keep  in  mind. 

Finding  that  Willie  continued  to  grow  worse, 
Mrs.  Lincoln  determined  to  withdraw  her  cards 
of  invitation  and  postpone  the  reception.  Mr. 
Lincoln  thought  that  the  cards  had  better  not  be 
withdrawn.  At  least  he  advised  that  the  doctor 
be  consulted  before  any  steps  were  taken.  Ac 
cordingly  Dr.  Stone  was  called  in.  He  pro 
nounced  Willie  better,  and  said  that  there  was 
every  reason  for  an  early  recovery.  He  thought, 
since  the  invitations  had  been  issued,  it  would  be 
best  to  go  on  with  the  reception.  Willie,  he 
insisted,  was  in  no  immediate  danger.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  was  guided  by  these  counsels,  and  no 
postponement  was  announced.  On  the  evening 
of  the  reception  Willie  was  suddenly  taken 
worse.  His  mother  sat  by  his  bedside  a  long 
while,  holding  his  feverish  hand  in  he^  own,  and 


Behind  the  Scenes.  101 

watching  his  labored  breathing.  The  doctor 
claimed  there  was  no  cause  for  alarm.  I  arran 
ged  Mrs.  Lincoln's  hair,  then  assisted  her  to 
dress.  Her  dress  was  white  satin,  trimmed  with 
black  lace.  The  trail  was  very  long,  and  as  she 
swept  through  the  room,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  stand 
ing  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  his  hands  behind 
him,  and  his  eyes  on  the  carpet.  His  face  wore 
a  thoughtful,  solemn  look.  The  rustling  of  the 
satin  dress  attracted  his  attention.  He  looked  at 
it  a  few  moments  ;  then,  in  his  quaint,  quiet  way 
remarked — 

"  Whew  !  our  cat  has  a  long  tail  to-night." 
Mrs.  Lincoln  did  not   reply.     The   President 
added : 

"  Mother,  it  is  my  opinion,  if  some  of  that  tail 
was  nearer  the  head,  it  w^ould  be  in  better 
style ;  "  and  he  glanced  at  her  bare  arms  and 
neck.  She  had  a  beautiful  neck  and  arm,  and 
low  dresses  were  becoming  to  her.  She  turned 
away  with  a  look  of  offended  dignity,  and  pre- 


102  Behind  the  Scenes. 

sently  took  the  President's  arm,  arid  both  went 
down-stairs  to  their  guests,  leaving  me  alone  with 
the  sick  boy. 

The  reception  was  a  large  and  brilliant  one, 
and  the  rich  notes  of  the  Marine  Band  in  the 
apartments  below  came  to  the  sick-room  in  soft, 
subdued  murmurs,  like  the  wild,  faint  sobbing  of 
far-off  spirits.  Some  of  the  young  people  had 
suggested  dancing,  but  Mr.  Lincoln  met  the 
suggestion  with  an  emphatic  veto.  The  brilliance 
of  the  scene  could  not  dispel  the  sadness  that 
rested  upon  the  face  of  Mrs.  Lincoln.  During 
the  evening  she  came  up-stairs  several  times,  and 
stood  by  the  bedside  of  the  suffering  boy.  She 
loved  him  with  a  mother's  heart,  and  her  anxiety 
was  great.  The  night  passed  slowly ;  morning 
came,  and  Willie  was  worse.  He  lingered  a  few 
days,  and  died.  God  called  the  beautiful  spirit 
home,  and  the  house  of  joy  was  turned  into  the 
house  of  mourning.  I  was  worn  out  with  watch 
ing,  and  was  not  in  the  room  when  Willie  died. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  103 

but  was  immediately  sent  for.  I  assisted  in 
washing  him  and  dressing  him,  and  then  laid 
him  on  the  bed,  when  Mr.  Lincoln  came  in.  I 
never  saw  a  man  so  bowed  down  with  grief.  He 
came  to  the  bed,  lifted  the  cover  from  the  face  of 
his  child,  gazed  at  it  long  and  earnestly,  mur 
muring,  "  My  poor  boy,  he  was  too  good  for  this 
earth.  God  has  called  him  home.  I  know  that 
he  is  much  better  off  in  heaven,  but  then  we 
loved  him  so.  It  is  hard,  hard  to  have  him 
die ! " 

Great  sobs  choked  his  utterance.  He  buried 
his  head  in  his  hands,  and  his  tall  frame  was  con 
vulsed  with  emotion.  I  stood  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  my  eyes  full  of  tears,  looking  at  the  man 
in  silent,  awe-stricken  wonder.  His  grief  un 
nerved  him,  and  made  him  a  weak,  passive  child. 
I  did  not  dream  that  his  rugged  nature  could  be 
so  moved.  I  shall  never  forget  those  solemn 
moments — genius  and  greatness  weeping  over 
love's  idol  lost.  There  is  a  grandeur  as  well  as  a 


104  Behind  the  Scenes. 

simplicity  about  the  picture  that  will  never  fade. 
"With  me  it  is  immortal — I  really  believe  that  I 
shall  carry  it  with  me  across  the  dark,  mysterious 
river  of  death. 

Mrs.  Lincoln's  grief  was  inconsolable.  The 
pale  face  of  her  dead  boy  threw  her  into  con 
vulsions.  Around  him  love's  tendrils  had  been 
twined,  and  now  that  he  was  dressed  for  the 
tomb,  it  was  like  tearing  the  tendrils  out  of  the 
heart  by  their  roots.  "Willie,  she  often  said,  if 
spared  by  Providence,  would  be  the  hope  and  stay 
of  her  old  age.  But  Providence  had  not  spared 
him.  The  light  faded  from  his  eyes,  and  the 
death-dew  had  gathered  on  his  brow. 

In  one  of  her  paroxysms  of  grief  the  President 
kindly  bent  over  his  wife,  took  her  by  the  arm, 
and  gently  led  her  to  the  window.  "With  a 
stately,  solemn  gesture,  he  pointed  to  the  lunatic 
asylum. 

"  Mother,  do  you  see  that  large  white  building 
on  the  hill  yonder  ?  Try  and  control  your  grief, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  105 

or  it  will  drive  you  mad,  and  we  may  have   to 
send  you  there." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  so  completely  overwhelmed 
with  sorrow  that  she  did  not  attend  the  funeral. 
"Willie  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  cemetery,  and  the 
White  House  was  draped  in  mourning.  Black 
crape  everywhere  met  the  eye,  contrasting 
strangely  with  the  gay  and  brilliant  colors  of  a 
few  days  before.  Party  dresses  were  laid  aside, 
and  every  one  who  crossed  the  threshold  of  the 
Presidential  mansion  spoke  in  subdued  tones 
when  they  thought  of  the  sweet  boy  at  rest — 
"  Under  the  sod  and  the  dew." 

Previous  to  this  I  had  lost  my  son.  Leaving 
Wilberforce,  he  went  to  the  battle-field  with  the 
three  months  troops,  and  was  killed  in  Missouri 
— found  his  grave  on  the  battle-field  where  the 
gallant  General  Lyon  fell.  It  was  a  sad  blow  to 
me,  and  the  kind  womanly  letter  that  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  wrote  to  me  when  she  heard  of  my  bereave 
ment  was  full  of  golden  words  of  comfort. 
5* 


106  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Nathaniel  Parker  Willis,  the  genial  poet,  now 
sleeping  in  his  grave,  wrote  this  beautiful  sketch 
of  Willie  Lincoln,  after  the  sad  death  of  the 
bright-eyed  boy : 

"  This  little  fellow  had  his  acquaintances 
among  his  father's  friends,  and  I  chanced  to  be 
one  of  them.  He  never  failed  to  seek  me  out  in 
the  crowd,  shake  hands,  and  make  some  pleasant 
remark ;  and  this,  in  a  boy  of  ten  years  of  age, 
was,  to  say  the  least,  endearing  to  a  stranger. 
But  he  had  more  than  mere  affection ateness. 
His  self-possession — aplomb,  as  the  French  call 
it — was  extraordinary.  I  was  one  day  passing 
the  White  House,  when  he  was  outside  with  a 
play-fellow  on  the  side-walk.  Mr.  Seward  drove 
in,  with  Prince  Napoleon  and  two  of  his  suite  in. 
the  carriage ;  and,  in  a  mock-heroic  way — terms 
of  intimacy  evidently  existing  between  the  boy 
and  the  Secretary — the  official  gentleman  took 
off  his  hat,  and  the  Napoleon  did  the  same,  all 
making  the  young  Prince  President  a  ceremo- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  107 

nious  salute.  Not  a  bit  staggered  with  the  hom 
age,  Willie  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height, 
took  off  his  little  cap  with  graceful  self-posses 
sion,  and  bowed  down  formally  to  the  ground, 
like  a  little  ambassador.  They  drove  past,  and 
he  went  on  unconcernedly  with  his  play:  the 
impromptu  readiness  and  good  judgment  being 
clearly  a  part  of  his  nature.  His  genial  and 
open  expression  of  countenance  was  none  the  less 
ingenuous  and  fearless  for  a  certain  tincture  of 
fun  ;  and  it  was  in  this  mingling  of  qualities  that 
he  so  faithfully  resembled  his  father. 

"With  all  the  splendor  that  was  around  this 
little  fellow  in  his  new  home,  he  was  so  bravely 
and  beautifully  himself — and  that  only.  A  wild 
flower  transplanted  from  the  prairie  to  the  hot 
house,  he  retained  his  prairie  habits,  unalterably 
pure  and  simple,  till  he  died.  His  leading  trait 
seemed  to  be  a  fearless  and  kindly  frankness, 
willing  that  everything  should  be  as  different  as 
it  pleased,  but  resting  unmoved  in  his  own  con- 


108  Behind  the  Scenes. 

scions  single-heartedness.  I  found  I  was  study 
ing  him  irresistibly,  as  one  of  the  sweet  problems 
of  childhood  that  the  world  is  blessed  with  in 
rare  places ;  and  the  news  of  his  death  (I  was 
absent  from  Washington,  on  a  visit  to  my  own 
children,  at  the  time)  came  to  me  like  a  knell 
heard  unexpectedly  at  a  merry-making. 

"  On  the  day  of  the  funeral  I  went  before  the 
hour,  to  take  a  near  farewell  look  at  the  dear 
boy ;  for  they  had  embalmed  him  to  send  home 
to  the  West — to  sleep  under  the  sod  of  his  own 
valley — and  the  coffin-lid  was  to  be  closed  be 
fore  the  service.  The  family  had  just  taken 
their  leave  of  him,  and  the  servants  and  nurses 
were  seeing  him  for  the  last  time— and  with 
tears  and  sobs  wholly  unrestrained,  for  he  was 
loved  like  an  idol  by  every  one  of  them.  He 
lay  with  eyes  closed — his  brown  hair  parted  as 
we  had  known  it — pale  in  the  slumber  of  death  ; 
but  otherwise  unchanged,  for  he  was  dressed  as 
if  for  the  evening,  and  held  in  one  of  his  hands, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  109 

crossed  upon  his  breast,  a  bunch  of  exquisite 
flowers — a  message  coming  from  his  mother, 
while  we  were  looking  upon  him,  that  those 
flowers  might  be  preserved  for  her.  She  was 
lying  sick  in  her  bed,  worn  out  with  grief  and 
overwatching. 

"  The  funeral  was  very  touching.  Of  the  en 
tertainments  in  the  East  E-oom  the  boy  had  been 
— for  those  who  now  assembled  more  especially 
— a  most  life-giving  variation.  With  his  bright 
face,  and  his  apt  greetings  and  replies,  he  was 
remembered  in  every  part  of  that  crimson-cur 
tained  hall,  built  only  for  pleasure — of  all  the 
crowds,  each  night,  certainly  the  one  least  likely 
to  be  death's  first  mark.  He  was  his  father's 
favorite.  They  were  intimates — often  seen  hand 
in  hand.  And  there  sat  the  man,  with  a  burden 
on  his  brain  at  which  the  world  marvels — bent 
now  with  the  load  at  both  heart  and  brain — 
staggering  under  a  blow  like  the  taking  from 
him  of  his  child !  His  men  of  power  sat  around 


110  Behind  the  Scenes. 

him — McClellan,  with  a  moist  eye  when  he 
bowed  to  the  prayer,  as  I  could  see  from  where 
I  stood ;  and  Chase  and  Seward,  with  their  aus 
tere  features  at  work;  and  senators,  and  ambas 
sadors,  and  soldiers,  all  struggling  with  their 
tears — great  hearts  sorrowing  with  the  President 
as  a  stricken  man  and  a  brother.  That  God 
may  give  him  strength  for  all  his  burdens  is, 
I  am  sur-e,  at  present  the  prayer  of  a  nation." 
This  sketch  was  very  much  admired  by  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  I  copy  it  from  the  scrap-book  in  which 
she  pasted  it,  with  many  tears,  with  her  own 
hands. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


WASHINGTON  IN    1862-3. 

the  summer  of  1862,  freedmen  be 
gan  to  flock  into  Washington  from 
Maryland  and  Virginia.  They 
came  with  a  great  hope  in  their 
hearts,  and  with  all  their  worldly  goods  on  their 
backs.  Fresh  from  the  bonds  of  slavery,  fresh 
from  the  benighted  regions  of  the  plantation,  they 
came  to  the  Capital  looking  for  liberty,  and  many 
of  them  not  knowing  it  when  they  found  it. 
Many  good  friends  reached  forth  kind  hands,  but 
the  North  is  not  warm  and  impulsive.  For  one 
kind  word  spoken,  two  harsh  ones  were  uttered ; 


112  Behind  the  Scenes. 

there  was  something  repelling  in  the  atmosphere, 
and  the  bright  joyous  dreams  of  freedom  to  the 
slave  faded — were  sadly  altered,  in  the  presence 
of  that  stern,  practical  mother,  reality.  Instead 
of  flowery  paths,  days  of  perpetual  sunshine,  and 
bowers  hanging  with  golden  fruit,  the  road  was 
rugged  and  full  of  thorns,  the  sunshine  was  eclip 
sed  by  shadows,  and  the  mute  appeals  for  help 
too  often  were  answered  by  cold  neglect.  Poor 
dusky  children  of  slavery,  men  and  women  of  my 
own  race — the  transition  from  slavery  to  freedom 
was  too  sudden  for  you  !  The  bright  dreams 
were  too  rudely  dispelled ;  you  wrere  not  prepared 
for  the  new  life  that  opened  before  you,  and  the 
great  masses  of  the  North  learned  to  look  upon 
your  helplessness  with  indifference — learned  to 
speak  of  you  as  an  idle,  dependent  race.  Reason 
should  have  prompted  kinder  thoughts.  Charity 
is  ever  kind. 

One  fair  summer  evening  I  was  walking  the 
streets  of  Washington,  accompanied  by  a  friend, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  113 

when  a  band  of  music  was  heard  in  the  distance. 
We  wondered  what  it  could  mean,  and  curiosity 
prompted  us  to  find  out  its  meaning.  We 
quickened  our  steps,  and  discovered  that  it  came 
from  the  house  of  Mrs.  Farnham.  The  yard  was 
brilliantly  lighted,  ladies  and  gentlemen  were 
moving  about,  and  the  band,  was  playing  some 
of  its  sweetest  airs.  We  approached  the  sentinel 
on  duty  at  the  gate,  and  asked  what  was  going 
on.  He  told  us  that  it  was  a  festival  given  for 
the  benefit  of  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers  in 
the  city.  This  suggested  an  idea  to  me.  If  the 
white  people  can  give  festivals  to  raise  funds  for 
the  relief  of  suffering  soldiers,  why  should  not  the 
well-to-do  colored  people  go  to  work  to  do 
something  for  the  benefit  of  the  suffering  blacks  ? 
I  could  not  rest.  The  thought  was  ever  present 
with  me,  and  the  next  Sunday  I  made  a  sugges 
tion  in  the  colored  church,  that  a  society  of 
colored  people  be  formed  to  labor  for  the  benefit 
of  the  unfortunate  freedmen.  The  idea  proved 


114:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

popular,  and  in  two  weeks  "  the  Contraband 
Relief  Association  "  was  organized,  with  forty 
working  members. 

In  September  of  1862,  Mrs.  Lincoln  left  Wash 
ington  for  New  York,  and  requested  me  to  fol 
low  her  in  a  few  days,  and  join  her  at  the  Metro 
politan  Hotel.  I  was  glad  of  the  opportunity  to 
do  so,  for  I  thought  that  in  New  York  I  would 
be  able  to  do  something  in  the  interests  of  our 
society.  Armed  with  credentials,  I  took  the 
train  for  New  York,  and  went  to  the  Metropoli 
tan,  where  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  secured  accommoda 
tions  for  me.  The  next  morning  I  told  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  of  my  project ;  and  she  immediately  headed 
my  list  with  a  subscription  of  $200.  I  circulated 
among  the  colored  people,  and  got  them  tho 
roughly  interested  in  the  subject,  wThen  I  was 
called  to  Boston  by  Mrs.  Lincoln,  who  wished  to 
visit  her  son  Robert,  attending  college  in  that 
city.  I  met  Mr.  Wendell  Phillips,  and  other 
Boston  philanthropists,  who  gave  me  all  the 


Behind  the  Scenes.  115 

assistance  in  their  power.  We  held  a  mass 
meeting  at  the  Colored  Baptist  Church,  Rev. 
Mr.  Grimes,  in  Boston,  raised  a  sum  of  money, 
and  organized  there  a  branch  society.  The  soci 
ety  was  organized  by  Mrs.  Grimes,  wife  of  the 
pastor,  assisted  by  Mrs.  Martin,  wife  of  Rev. 
Stella  Martin.  This  branch  of  the  main  society, 
during  the  war,  was  able  to  send  us  over  eighty 
large  boxes  of  goods,  contributed  exclusively  by 
the  colored  people  of  Boston.  Returning  to  New 
York,  we  held  a  successful  meeting  at  the  Shiloh 
Church,  Rev.  Henry  Plighland  Garnet,  pastor. 
The  Metropolitan  Hotel,  at  that  time  as  now, 
employed  colored  help.  I  suggested  the  object 
of  ni}'  mission  to  Robert  Thompson,  Steward  of 
the  Hotel,  who  immediately  raised  quite  a  sum 
of  money  among  the  dining-room  waiters.  Mr. 
Frederick  Douglass  contributed  $200,  besides 
lecturing  for  us.  Other  prominent  colored  men 
sent  in  liberal  contributions.  From  England* 

*  The    Sheffield    Anti- Slavery   Society  of    England   con- 


116  Behind  the  Scenes. 

a  large  quantity  of  stores  was  received.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  made  frequent  contributions,  as  also  did 
the  President.  In  1863  I  was  re-elected  Presi 
dent  of  the  Association,  wThich  office  I  continue 
to  hold. 

For  two  years  after  "Willie's  death  the  White 
House  was  the  scene  of  no  fashionable  display. 
The  memory  of  the  dead  boy  was  duly  respected. 
In  some  things  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  an  altered 
woman.  Sometimes,  when  in  her  room,  with  no 
one  present  but  myself,  the  mere  mention  of 
"Willie's  name  would  excite  her  emotion,  and 
any  trifling  memento  that  recalled  him  would 
move  her  to  tears.  She  could  not  bear  to  look 
upon  his  picture  ;  and  after  his  death  she  never 

tributed  through  Mr.  Frederick  Douglass,  to  the  Freed- 
men's  Relief  Association,  $24.00;  Aberdeen  Ladies'  Society, 
$40.00 ;  Anti-Slavery  Society  of  Edinburgh,  Scotland,  $48.00 ; 
Friends  at  Bristol,  England,  $176.00;  Birmingham  Negro's 
Friend  Society,  $50.00.  Also  received  through  Mr,  Charles 
R.  Douglass,  from  the  Birmingham  Society,  $33.00. 


Behind  tlie  Scenes.  117 

crossed  the  threshold  of  the  Guest's  Room  in 
which  he  died,  or  the  Green  Eoom  in  which  he 
was  embalmed.  There  was  something  super 
natural  in  her  dread  of  these  things,  and  some 
thing  that  she  could  not  explain.  Tad's  nature 
was  the  opposite  of  Willie's,  and  he  was  always 
regarded  as  his  father's  favorite  child.  His  black 
eyes  fairly  sparkled  with  mischief. 

The  war  progressed,  fair  fields  had  been  stain 
ed  with  blood,  thousands  of  brave  men  had  fallen, 
and  thousands  of  eyes  were  weeping  for  the  fallen 
at  home.  There  were  desolate  hearthstones  in 
the  South  as  well  as  in  the  North,  and  as  the 
people  of  my  race  watched  the  sanguinary  strug 
gle,  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide  of  battle,  they 
lifted  their  faces  Zionward,  as  if  they  hoped  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Promised  Land  beyond 
the  sulphureous  clouds  of  smoke  which  shifted 
now  and  then  but  to  reveal  ghastly  rows  of  new- 
made  graves.  Sometimes  the  very  life  of  the 
nation  seemed  to  tremble  with  the  fierce  shock 


118  Behind  the  Scenes. 

of  arms.  In  1863  the  Confederates  were  flushed 
with  victory,  and  sometimes  it  looked  as  if  the 
proud  flag  of  the  Union,  the  glorious  old  Stars 
and  Stripes,  must  yield  half  its  nationality  to  the 
tri-barred  flag  that  floated  grandly  over  long 
columns  of  gray.  These  were  sad,  anxious  days 
to  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  those  who  saw  the  man  in 
privacy  only  could  tell  how  much  he  suffered. 
One  day  he  came  into  the  room  where  I  was 
fitting  a  dress  on  Mrs.  Lincoln.  His  step  was 
slow  and  heavy,  and  his  face  sad.  Like  a 
tired  child  he  threw  himself  upon  a  sofa,  and 
shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hands.  He  was  a  com 
plete  picture  of  dejection.  Mrs.  Lincoln,  observ 
ing  his  troubled  look,  asked  : 

"  Where  have  you  been,  father  ? " 

"  To  the  War  Department,"  was  the  brief, 
almost  sullen  answer. 

"  Any  news  ?  " 

"  Yes,  plenty  of  news,  but  no  good  news.  It 
is  dark,  dark  everywhere." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  119 

He  reached  forth  one  of  his  long  arms,  and 
took  a  small  Bible  from  a  stand  near  the  head  of 
the  sofa,  opened  the  pages  of  the  holy  book, 
and  soon  was  absorbed  in  reading  them.  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  passed,  and  on  glancing  at 
the  sofa  the  face  of  the  President  seemed  more 
cheerful.  The  dejected  look  was  gone,  and  the 
countenance  was  lighted  up  with  new  resolution 
and  hope.  The  change  was  so  marked  that  I 
could  not  but  wonder  at  it,  and  wonder  led  to  the 
desire  to  know  what  book  of  the  Bible  aiforded 
so  much  comfort  to  the  reader.  Making  the 
search  for  a  missing  article  an  excuse,  I  walked 
gently  around  the  sofa,  and  looking  into  the 
open  book,  I  discovered  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
reading  that  divine  comforter,  Job.  He  read 
with  Christian  eagerness,  and  the  courage  and 
hope  that  he  derived  from  the  inspired  pages 
made  him  a  new  man.  I  almost  imagined  that  I 
could  hear  the  Lord  speaking  to  him  from  out 
the  whirlwind  of  battle  :  "  Gird  up  thy  loins  now 


120  Behind  the  Scenes. 

like  a  man  :  I  will  demand  of  thee,  and  declare 
tliou  unto  me."  What  a  sublime  picture  was 
this  !  A  ruler  of  a  mighty  nation  going  to  the 
pages  of  the  Bible  with  simple  Christian  eai  nest- 
ness  for  comfort  and  courage,  and  finding  both 
in  the  darkest  hours  of  a  nation's  calamity.  Pon 
der  it,  O  ye  scoffers  at  God's  Holy  Word',  and 
then  hang  your  heads  for  very  shame  ! 

Frequent  letters  were  received  warning  Mr. 
Lincoln  of  assassination,  but  he  never  gave  a 
second  thought  to  the  mysterious  warnings.  The 
letters,  however,  sorely  troubled  his  wife.  She 
seemed  to  read  impending  danger  in  every  rust 
ling  leaf,  in  every  whisper  of  the  wind. 

"  Where  are  you  going  now,  father  ?"  she  would 
say  to  him,  as  she  observed  him  putting  on  his 
overshoes  and  shawl. 

"I  am  going  over  to  the  War  Department, 
mother,  ,to  try  and  learn  some  news." 

"But,  father,  you  should  not  go  out  alone* 
You  know  you  are  surrounded  with  danger." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  121 

"  All  imagination.  What  does  any  one  want 
to  harm  me  for  ?  Don't  worry  about  me,  mother, 
as  if  I  were  a  Jittle  child,  for  no  one  is  going  to 
molest  me ;"  and  with  a  confident,  unsuspecting 
air  he  would  close  the  door  behind  him,  descend 
the  stairs,  and  pass  out  to  his  lonely  walk. 

For  weeks,  when  trouble  was  anticipated, 
friends  of  the  President  would  sleep  in  the  White 
House  to  guard  him  from  danger. 

Robert  would  come  home  every  few  months, 
bringing  new  joy  to  the  family  circle.  He  was 
very  anxious  to  quit  school  and  enter  the  army, 
but  the  move  was  sternly  opposed  by  his  mother. 

"  We  have  lost  one  son,  and  his  loss  is  as  much 
as  I  can  bear,  without  being  called  upon  to  make 
another  sacrifice,"  she  would  say,  when  the  sub 
ject  was  under  discussion. 

"  But  many  a  poor  mother  has  given  up  all 
her  sons,"  mildly  suggested  Mr.  Lincoln,  "  and 
our  son  is  not  more  dear  to  us  than  the  sons  of 

other  people  are  to  their  mothers." 
6 


122  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  That  may  be ;  but  I  cannot  bear  to  have 
Robert  exposed  to  danger.  His  services  are  not 
required  in  the  field,  and  the  sacrifice  would  be 
a  needless  one." 

"  The  services  of  every  man  who  loves  his 
country  are  required  in  this  war.  You  should 
take  a  liberal  instead  of  a  selfish  view  of  the 
question,  mother." 

Argument  at  last  prevailed,  and  permission 
was  granted  Robert  to  enter  the  army.  With 
the  rank  of  Captain  and  A.  D.  C.  he  went  to  the 
field,  and  remained  in  the  army  till  the  close  of 
the  war. 

I  well  recollect  a  little  incident  that  gave  me 
a  clearer  insight  into  Robert's  character.  He  was 
at  home  at  the  time  the  Tom  Thumb  combination 
was  at  "Washington.  The  marriage  of  little  Hop- 
o'-my-thumb — Charles  Stratton — to  Miss  Warren 
created  no  little  excitement  in  the  world,  and  the 
people  of  Washington  participated  in  the  general 
curiosity.  Some  of  Mrs.  Lincoln's  friends  made 


Behind  the  Scenes.  123 

her  believe  that  it  was  the  duty  of  Mrs.  Lincoln 
to  show  some  attention  to  the  remarkable  dwarfs. 
Tom  Thumb  had  been  caressed  by  royalty  in  the 
Old  World,  and  why  should  not  the  wife  of  the 
President  of  his  native  country  smile  upon  him 
also?  Verily,  duty  is  one  of  the  greatest  bug 
bears  in  life.  A  hasty  reception  was  arranged, 
and  cards  of  invitation  issued.  I  had  dressed 
Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  she  was  ready  to  go  below  and 
receive  her  guests,  when  Robert  entered  his 
mother's  room. 

"  You  are  at  leisure  this  afternoon,  are  you  not, 
Robert?" 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  Of  course,  then,  you  will  dress  and  come 
down-stairs." 

"  No,  mother,  I  do  not  propose  to  assist 
in  entertaining  Tom  Thumb.  My  notions  of 
duty,  perhaps,  are  somewhat  different  from 
yours." 

Robert  had  a  lofty  soul,  and  he  could  not  stoop 


124:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

to  all  of  the  follies  and  absurdities  of  the  epheme 
ral  current  of  fashionable  life. 

Mrs.  Lincoln's  love  for  her  husband  sometimes 
prompted  her  to  act  very  strangely.  She  was 
extremely  jealous  of  him,  and  if  a  lady  desired  to 
court  her  displeasure,  she  could  select  no  surer 
way  to  do  it  than  to  pay  marked  attention  to  the 
President.  These  little  jealous  freaks  often  were 
a  source  of  perplexity  to  Mr.  Lincoln.  If  it  was 
a  reception  for  which  they  were  dressing,  he 
would  come  into  her  room  to  conduct  her  down 
stairs,  and  while  pulling  on  his  gloves  ask,  with  a 
merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes : 

"  Well,  mother,  who  must  I  talk  with  to-night 
—shall  it  be  Mrs.  D.  ? " 

"  That  deceitful  woman !  No,  you  shall  not 
listen  to  her  flattery." 

"  "Well,  then,  what  *do  you  say  to  Miss  C.  ?  She 
is  too  young  and  handsome  to  practise  deceit." 

"  Young  and  handsome,  you  call  her  !  You 
should  not  judge  beauty  for  me.  No,  she  is 


Behind  the  Scenes.  125 

in  league  with  Mrs.  D.,  and  you  shall  not  talk 
with  her." 

"Well,  mother,  I  must  talk  with  some  one. 
Is  there  any  one  that  you  do  not  object  to  ? " 
trying  to  button  his  glove,  with  a  mock  expres 
sion  of  gravity. 

"  I  don't  know  as  it  is  necessary  that  you 
should  talk  to  anybody  in  particular.  You 
know  well  enough,  Mr.  Lincoln,  that  I  do  not 
approve  of  your  flirtations  with  silly  women, 
just  as  if  you  were  a  beardless  boy,  fresh  from 
school." 

"  But,  mother,  I  insist  that  I  must  talk  with 
somebody.  I  can't  stand  around  like  a  simpleton, 
and  say  nothing.  If  you  will  not  tell  me  who  I 
may  talk  with,  please  tell  me  who  I  may  not  talk 
with." 

"  There  is  Mrs.  D.  and  Miss  C.  in  particular. 
I  detest  them  both.  Mrs.  B.  also  will  come 
around  you,  but  you  need  not  listen  to  her 
flattery.  These  are  the  ones  in  particular." 


126  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  Very  well,  mother ;  now  that  we  have  set 
tled  the  question  to  your  satisfaction,  we  will  go 
down-stairs ;"  and  always  with  stately  dignity, 
he  proffered  his  arm  and  led  the  way. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
CANDID  OPINIONS. 

FTEN  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  dis 
cussed  the  relations  of  Cabinet 
officers,  and  gentlemen  prominent 
in  politics,  in  my  presence.  I  soon 
learned  that  the  wife  of  the  President  had  no 
love  for  Mr.  Salmon  P.  Chase,  at  that  time  Sec 
retary  of  the  Treasury.  She  was  well  versed  in 
human  character,  was  somewhat  suspicious  of 
those  by  whom  she  was  surrounded,  and  often 
her  judgment  was  correct.  Her  intuition  about 
the  sincerity  of  individuals  was  more  accurate 
than  that  of  her  husband.  She  looked  beyond, 


128  Behind  the  Scenes. 

and  read  the  reflection  of  action  in  the  future. 
Her  hostility  to  Mr.  Chase  was  very  bitter.  She 
claimed  that  he  was  a  selfish  politician  instead 
of  a  true  patriot,  and  warned  Mr.  Lincoln  not  to 
trust  him  too  far.  The  daughter  of  the  Secre 
tary  was  quite  a  belle  in  Washington,  and  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  who  was  jealous  of  the  popularity  of 
others,  had  no  desire  to  build  up  her  social  posi 
tion  through  political  favor  to  her  father.  Miss 
Chase,  now  Mrs.  Senator  Sprague,  was  a  lovely 
woman,  and  was  worthy  of  all  the  admiration 
she  received.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  more  confiding 
than  his  wife.  He  never  suspected  the  fidelity 
of  those  who  claimed  to  be  his  friends.  Honest 
to  the  very  core  himself,  and  frank  as  a  child,  he 
never  dreamed  of  questioning  the  sincerity  of 
others. 

"  Father,  I  do  wish  that  you  would  inquire  a 
little  into  the  motives  of  Chase,"  said  his  wife 
one  day. 

The    President  was    lying  carelessly  upon  a 


Behind  the  Scenes.  129 

sofa,  holding  a  newspaper  in  his  hands.  "  Moth 
er,  you  are  too  suspicious.  I  give  you  credit  for 
sagacity,  but  you  are  disposed  to  magnify  trifles. 
Chase  is  a  patriot,  and  one  of  my  best  friends." 

"Yes,  one  of  your  best  friends  because  it  is 
his  interest  to  be  so.  He  is  anything  for  Chase. 
If  he  thought  he  could  make  anything  by  it,  he 
would  betray  you  to-morrow." 

"  I  fear  that  you  are  prejudiced  against  the 
man,  mother.  I  know  that  you  do  him  injustice." 

"  Mr.  Lincoln,  you  are  either  blind  or  will  not 
see.  I  am  not  the  only  one  that  has  warned  you 
against  him." 

"  True,  I  receive  letters  daily  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  telling  me  not  to  trust  Chase ;  but 
then  these  letters  are  written  by  the  political 
enemies  of  the  Secretary,  and  it  would  be  unjust 
and  foolish  to  pay  any  attention  to  them." 

"  Very  well,  you  will  find  out  some  day,  if  you 
live  long  enough,  that  I  have  read  the  man  cor 
rectly.  I  only  hope  that  your  eyes  may  not  be 
6* 


130  Behind  the  Scenes. 

opened  to  the  truth  when  it  is  too  late."  The 
President,  as  far  as  I  could  judge  from  his  con 
versation  with  his  wife,  continued  to  confide  in 
Mr.  Chase  to  the  time  of  his  tragic  death. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  especially  severe  on  Mr. 
Wm.  PI.  Seward,  Secretary  of  State.  She  but 
rarely  lost  an  opportunity  to  say  an  unkind  word 
of  him. 

One  morning  I  went  to  the  White  House 
earlier  than  usual.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  sitting  in  a 
chair,  reading  a  paper,  stroking  with  one  hand 
the  head  of  little  Tad.  I  was  basting  a  dress  for 
Mrs.  Lincoln.  A  servant  entered,  and  handed  the 
President  a  letter  just  brought  by  a  messenger. 
He  broke  the  seal,  and  when  he  had  read  the  con 
tents  his  wife  asked : 

"  Who  is  the  letter  from,  father  ? " 

"  Seward ;  I  must  go  over  and  see  him  to- 
day." 

"  Seward !  I  wish  you  had  nothing  to  do  with 
that  man.  He  cannot  be  trusted." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  131 

"  You  say  the  same  of  Chase.  If  I  listened  to 
you,  I  should  soon  be  without  a  Cabinet." 

"  Better  be  without  it  than  to  confide  in  some 
of  the  men  that  you  do.  Seward  is  worse  than 
Chase.  He  has  no  principle. 

"Mother,  you  are  mistaken;  your  prejudices 
are  so  violent  that  you  do  not  stop  to  reason. 
Seward  is  an  able  man,  and  the  country  as  well 
as  myself  can  trust  him." 

"Father,  you  are  too  honest  for  this  world! 
You  should  have  been  born  a  saint.  You  will 
generally  find  it  a  safe  rule  to  distrust  a  disap 
pointed,  ambitious  politician.  It  makes  me  mad 
to  see  you  sit  still  and  let  that  hypocrite,  Seward, 
twine  you  around  his  finger  as  if  you  were  a 
skein  of  thread." 

"It  is  useless  to  argue  the  question,  mother. 
You  cannot  change  my  opinion." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  prided  herself  upon  her  ability  to 
read  character.  She  was  shrewd  and  far-seeing, 


132  Behind  the  Scenes. 

and  had  no  patience  with  the  frank,  confiding 
nature  of  the  President. 

When  Andrew  Johnson  was  urged  for  military 
Governor  of  Tennessee,  Mrs.  Lincoln  bitterly  op 
posed  the  appointment. 

"  He  is  a  demagogue,"  she  said,  almost  fiercely, 
"  and  if  you  place  him  vin  power,  Mr.  Lincoln, 
mark  my  words,  you  will  rue  it  some  day." 

General  McClellan,  when  made  Commander-in- 
Chief,  was  the  idol  of  the  soldiers,  and  never  was 
a  general  more  universally  popular.  "  He  is  a 
humbug,"  remarked  Mrs.  Lincoln  "one  day  in  my 
presence. 

"What  makes  you  think  so,  mother  ?"  good- 
naturedly  inquired  the  President. 

"  Because  he  talks  so  much  and  does  so  little. 
If  I  had  the  power  I  would  very  soon  take  off 
his  head,  and  put  some  energetic  man  in  his 
place." 

"  But  I  regard  McClellan  as  a  patriot  and  an 
able  soldier.  He  has  been  much  embarrassed. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  133 

The  troops  are  raw,  and  the  subordinate  officers 
inclined  to  be  rebellious.  There  are  too  many 
politicians  in  the  army  with  shoulder-straps. 
McClellan  is  young  and  popular,  and  they  are 
jealous  of  him.  They  will  kill  him  off  if  they 
can." 

"McClellan  can  make  plenty  of  excuse  for 
himself,  therefore  he  needs  no  advocate  in  you.  If 
he  would  only  do  something,  and  not  promise  so 
much,  I  might  learn  to  have  a  little  faith  in  him. 
I  tell  you  he  is  a  humbug,  and  you  will  have  to 
find  some  man  to  take  his  place,  that  is,  if  you 
wish  to  conquer  the  South." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  could  not  tolerate  General  Grant. 
"  He  is  a  butcher,"  she  would  often  say,  "  and  is 
not  fit  to  be  at  the  head  of  an  army." 

"  But  he  has  been  very  successful  in  the  field," 
argued  the  President. 

"  Yes,  he  generally  manages  to  claim  a  victory, 
but  such  a  victory !  He  loses  two  men  to  the 
enemy's  one.  He  has  no  management,  no  regard 


134:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

for  life.  If  the  war  should  continue  four  years 
longer,  and  he  should  remain  in  power,  he  would 
depopulate  the  North.  I  could  fight  an  army  as 
well  myself.  According  to  his  tactics,  there  is 
nothing  under  the  heavens  to  do  but  to  march  a 
new  line  of  men  up  in  front  of  the  rebel  breast 
works  to  be  shot  down  as  fast  as  they  take  their 
position,  and  keep  marching  until  the  enemy 
grows  tired  of  the  slaughter.  Grant,  I  repeat,  is 
an  obstinate  fool  and  a  butcher." 

"  Well,  mother,  supposing  that  we  give  you 
command  of  the  army.  No  doubt  you  would  do 
much  better  than  any  general  that  has  been  tried." 
There  was  a  twinkle  in  the  eyes,  and  a  ring  of 
irony  in  the  voice. 

I  have  often  heard  Mrs.  Lincoln  say  that  if 
Grant  should  ever  be  elected  President  of  the 
United  States  she  would  desire  to  leave  the 
country,  and  remain  absent  during  his  term  of 
office. 

It    was    well     known     that     Mrs.     Lincoln's 


Behind  the  Scenes.  135 

brothers  were  in  the  Confederate  army,  and  for 
this  reason  it  was  often  charged  that  her  sympa 
thies  were  with  the  South.  Those  who  made  the 
hasty  charge  were  never  more  widely  mistaken. 

One  morning,  on  my  way  to  the  White  House, 
I  heard  that  Captain  Alexander  Todd,  one 
of  her  brothers,  had  been  killed.  I  did  not 
like  to  inform  Mrs.  Lincoln  of  his  death,  judging 
that  it  would  be  painful  news  to  her.  I  had 
been  in  her  room  but  a  few  minutes  when  she 
said,  with  apparent  unconcern,  "  Lizzie,  I  have 
just  heard  that  one  of  my  brothers  has  been  killed 
in  the  war." 

"I  also  heard  the  same,  Mrs.  Lincoln,  but 
hesitated  to  speak  of  it,  for  fear  the  subject 
would  be  a  painful  one  to  you." 

"  You  need  not  hesitate.  Of  course,  it  is  but 
natural  that  I  should  feel  for  one  so  nearly 
related  to  me,  but  not  to  the  extent  that  you  sup 
pose.  He  made  his  choice  long  ago.  lie 
decided  against  my  husband,  and  through  him 


136  Behind  the  Scenes. 

against  me.  He  has  been  fighting  against  ns ; 
and  since  he  chos$  to  be  our  deadly  enemy,  I  see 
no  special  reason  why  I  should  bitterly  mourn 
his  death." 

I  felt  relieved,  and  in  subsequent  conversations 
learned  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  no  sympathy  for 
the  South.  "  Why  should  I  sympathize  with  the 
rebels,"  she  would  say ;  "  are  they  not  against 
me?  They  would  hang  my  husband  'to-morrow 
if  it  was  in  their  power,  and  perhaps  gibbet  me 
with  him.  How  then  can  I  sympathize  with  a 
people  at  war  with  me  and  mine  ? "  She  always 
objected  to  being  thought  Southern  in  feeling. 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  generous  by  nature,  and 
though  his  whole  heart  was  in  the  war,  he  could 
not  but  respect  the  valor  of  those  opposed  to 
him.  His  soul  was  too  great  for  the  narrow, 
selfish  views  of  partisanship.  Brave  by  nature 
v  himself,  he  honored  bravery  in  others,  even  his 
foes.  Time  and  again  I  have  heard  him  speak  in 
the  highest  terms  of  the  soldierly  qualities  of 


Behind  the  Scenes.  137 

such  brave  Confederate  generals  as  Lee,  Stone 
wall  Jackson,  and  Joseph  E.  Johnson.  Jackson 
was  his  ideal  soldier.  "He  is  a  brave,  honest 
Presbyterian  soldier,"  were  his  words  ;  "  what  a 
pity  that  we  should  have  to  fight  such  a  gallant 
fellow !  If  we  only  had  such  a  man  to  lead  the 
armies  of  the  North,  the  country  would  not  be 
appalled  with  so  many  disasters." 

As  this  is  a  rambling  chapter,  I  will  here  record 
an  incident  showing  his  feeling  toward  Robert  E. 
Lee.  The  very  morning  of  the  day  on  which  he 
was  assassinated,  his  son,  Capt.  Robert  Lincoln, 
came  into  the  room  with  a  portrait  of  General 
Lee  in  his  hand.  The  President  took  the  pic 
ture,  laid  it  on  a  table  before  him,  scanned  the 
face  thoughtfully,  and  said :  "  It  is  a  good  face ; 
it  is  the  face  of  a  noble,  noble,  brave  man.  I  am 
glad  that  the  war  is  over  at  last."  Looking  up 
at  Robert,  he  continued :  "  Well,  my  son,  you 
have  returned  safely  from  the  front.  The  war  is 
now  closed,  and  we  soon  will  live  in  peace  with 


138  Behind  the  Scenes. 

the  brave  men  that  have  been  fighting  against 
us.  I  trust  that  the  era  of  good  feeling  has  re 
turned  with  the  war,  and  that  henceforth  we 
shall  live  in  peace.  Now  listen  to  me,  Robert : 
you  must  lay  aside  your  uniform,  and  return  to 
college.  I  wish  you  to  read  law  for  three  years, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time  I  hope  that  we  will 
be  able  to  tell  whether  you  will  make  a  lawyer 
or  not."  His  face  was  more  cheerful  than  I  had 
seen  it  for  a  long  while,  and  he  seemed  to  be  in  a 
generous,  forgiving  mood. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


BEHIND   THE   SCENES. 

OME  of  the  freedmen  and  freed- 
women  had  exaggerated  ideas  of 
liberty.  To  them  it  was  a  beauti 
ful  vision,  a  land  of  sunshine,  rest, 
and  glorious  promise.  They  flocked  to  Washing 
ton,  and  since  their  extravagant  hopes  were  not 
•realized,  it  was  but  natural  that  many  of  them 
should  bitterly  feel  their  disappointment.  The 
colored  people  are  wedded  to  associations,  and 
when  you  destroy  these  you  destroy  half  of  the 
happiness  of  their  lives.  They  make  a  home, 
and  are  so  fond  of  it  that  they  prefer  it,  squalid 


140  Behind  the  Scenes. 

though  it  be,  to  the  comparative  ease  and  luxury 
of  a  shifting,  roaming  life.  Well,  the  emancipated 
slaves,  in  coming  North,  left  old  associations 
behind  them,  and  the  love  for  the  past  was  so 
strong  that  they  could  not  find  much  beauty 
in  the  new  life  so  suddenly  opened  to  them. 
Thousands  of  the  disappointed,  huddled  together 
in  camps,  fretted  and  pined  like  children  for  the 
"good  old  times."  In  visiting  them  in  the  in 
terests  of  the  Relief  Society  of  which  I  was 
president,  they  would  crowd  around  me  with 
pitiful  stories  of  distress.  Often  I  heard  them 
declare  that  they  would  rather  go  back  to  slavery 
in  the  South,  and  be  with  their  old  masters,  than 
to  enjoy  the  freedom  of  the  North.  I  believe 
they  were  sincere  in  these  declarations,  because 
dependence  had  become  a  part  of  their  second 
nature,  and  independence  brought  with  it  the 
cares  and  vexations  of  poverty. 

I  was  very  much  amused  one  day  at  the  grave 
complaints  of  a  good  old,   simple-minded  wo- 


Behind  tJie  Scenes. 

man,  fresh  from  a  life  of  servitude.  She  had 
never  ventured  beyond  a  plantation  until  coming 
North.  The  change  was  too  radical  for  her,  and 
she  could  not  exactly  understand  it.  She  thought, 
as  many  others  thought,  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  were  the  government,  and  that  the  President 
and  his  wife  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  supply  the 
extravagant  wants  of  every  one  that  applied  to 
them.  The  wants  of  this  old  woman,  liOAvever, 
were  not  very  extravagant. 

"  Why,  Missus  Keckley,"  said  she  to  me  one 
day,  "I  is  been  here  eight  months,  and  Missus 
Lingom  an't  even  give  me  one  shife.  Bliss  God, 
childen,  if  I  had  ar  know  dat  de  Government,  and 
Mister  and  Missus  Government,  was  going  to  do 
dat  ar  way,  I  neber  would  'ave  corned  here  in  God's 
wurld.  My  old  missus  us't  gib  me  two  shifes 
eber  year." 

I  could  not  restrain  a  laugh  at  the  grave  man 
ner  in  which  this  good  old  woman  entered  her 
protest.  Her  idea  of  freedom  was  two  or  more 


142  Behind  the  Scenes. 

old  shifts  every  year.  Northern  readers  may  not 
fully  recognize  the  pith  of  the  joke.  On  the 
Southern  plantation,  the  mistress,  according  to 
established  custom,  every  year  made  a  present  of 
certain  under-garments  to  her  slaves,  which  ar 
ticles  were  always  anxiously  looked  forward  to, 
and  thankfully  received.  The  old  woman  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  receiving  annually  two  shifts 
from  her  mistress,  and  she  thought  the  wife  of  the 
President  of  the  United  States  very  mean  for 
overlooking  this  established  custom  of  the  plan 
tation. 

"While  some  of  the  emancipated  blacks  pined 
for  the  old  associations  of  slavery,  and  refused 
to  help  themselves,  others  went  to  work  with 
commendable  energy,  and  planned  with  remark 
able  forethought.  They  built  themselves  cabins, 
and  each  family  cultivated  for  itself  a  small 
patch  of  ground.  The  colored  people  are  fond 
of  domestic  life,  and  with  them  domestication 
means  happy  children,  a  fat  pig,  a  dozen  or 


Behind  the  Scenes.  143 

more  chickens,  and  a  garden.  Whoever  visits 
the  Frcedmen's  Village  now  in  the  vicinity  of 
Washington  will  discover  all  of  these  evidences 
of  prosperity  and  happiness.  The  schools  are 
objects  of  much  interest.  Good  teachers,  white 
and  colored,  are  employed,  and  whole  brigades 
of  bright-eyed  dusky  children  are  there  taught  the 
common  branches  of  education.  These  children 
are  studious,  and  the  teachers  inform  me  that 
their  advancement  is  rapid.  I  number  among 
my  personal  friends  twelve  colored  girls  employ 
ed  as  teachers  in  the  schools  at  Washington. 
The  Colored  Mission  Sabbath  School,  established 
through  the  influence  of  Gen.  Brown  at  the  Fif 
teenth  Street  Presbyterian  Church,  is  always  an 
object  of  great  interest  to  the  residents  of  the 
Capital,  as  well  as  to  the  hundreds  of  strangers 
visiting  the  city. 

In  1864  the  receptions  again  commenced  at  the 
White  House.  For  the  first  two  years  of  Mr. 
Lincoln's  administration,  the  President  selected  a 


144:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

lady  to  join  in  the  promenade  with  him,  which 
left  Mrs.  Lincoln  free  to  choose  an  escort  from 
among  the  distinguished  gentlemen  that  always 
surrounded  her  on  such  occasions.  This  custom 
at  last  was  discontinued  by  Mrs.  Lincoln. 

"Lizabeth  1  " — I  was  sewing  in  her  room,  and 
she  was  seated  in  a  comfortable  arm-chair — "  Liza 
beth,  I  have  been  thinking  over  a  little  matter. 
As  you  are  well  aware,  the  President,  at  every  re 
ception,  selects  a  lady  to  lead  the  promenade  with 
him.  Now  it  occurs  to  me  that  this  custom  is  an 
absurd  one.  On  such  occasions  our  guests  recog 
nize  the  position  of  the  President  as  first  of  all ; 
consequently,  he  takes  the  lead  in  everything; 
well,  now,  if  they  recognize  his  position  they 
should  also  recognize  mine.  I  am  his  wife,  and 
should  lead  with  him.  And  yet  he  offers  his  arm 
to  any  other  lady  in  the  room,  making  her  first 
with  him  and  placing  me  second.  The  custom  is 
an  absurd  one,  and  I  mean  to  abolish  it.  The 
dignity  that  I  owe  to  my  position,  as  Mrs.  Presi- 


Beliwd  tfie  Scenes.  145 

dent,  demands  that  I  should  not  hesitate  any 
longer  to  act." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  kept  her  word.  Ever  after  this, 
she  either  led  the  promenade  with  the  President, 
or  the  President  walked  alone  or  with  a  gentle 
man.  The  change  was  much  remarked,  but  the 
reason  why  it  was  made,  I  believe,  was  never 
generally  known. 

In  1864  much  doubt  existed  in  regard  to  the 
re-election  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  the  White  House 
was  besieged  by  all  grades  of  politicians.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  was  often  blamed  for  having  a  certain 
class  of  men  around  her. 

"I  have  an  object  in  view,  Lizabeth,"  she  said 
to  me  in  reference  to  this  matter.  "  In  a  political 
canvass  it  is  policy  to  cultivate  every  element  of 
strength.  These  men  have  influence,  and  we  re 
quire  influence  to  re-elect  Mr.  Lincoln.  I  will  be 
clever  to  them  until  after  the  election,  and  then, 
if  we  remain  at  the  White  House,  I  will  drop 

every   one   of  them,   and   let   them   know  very 

7 


146  Behind  the  Scenes. 

plainly  that  I  only  made  tools  of  them.  They 
are  an  unprincipled  set,  and  I  don't  mind  a  little 
double-dealing  with  them." 

"  Does  Mr.  Lincoln  know  what  your  purpose 
is?  "I  asked. 

"  God !  no ;  he  would  never  sanction  such  a 
proceeding,  so  I  keep  him  in  the  dark,  and  will 
tell  him  of  it  when  all  is  over.  He  is  too  honest 
to  take  the  proper  care  of  his  own  interests,  so  I 
feel  it  to  be  my  duty  to  electioneer  for  him." 

Mr.  Lincoln,  as  every  one  knows,  was  far  from 
handsome.  He  was  not  admired  for  his  graceful 
figure  and  finely  moulded  face,  but  for  the  nobil 
ity  of  his  soul  and  the  greatness  of  his  heart. 
His  wife  was  different.  He  was  wholly  unselfish 
in  every  respect,  and  I  believe  that  he  loved  the 
mother  of  his  children  very  tenderly.  He  asked 
nothing  but  affection  from  her,  but  did  not 
nlways  receive  it.  When  in  one  of  her  wayward 
impulsive  moods,  she  was  apt  to  say  and  do 

things  that  wounded  him  deeply.     If  he  had  not 
f 


Behind  the  Scenes.  147 

loved  her,  she  would  have  been  powerless  to 
cloud  his  thoughtful  face,  or  gild  it  with  a  ray  of 
sunshine  as  she  pleased.  "We  are  indifferent  to 
those  we  do  not  love,  and  certainly  the  President 
was  not  indifferent  to  his  wife.  She  often 
wounded  him  in  unguarded  moments,  but  calm 
reflection  never  failed  to  bring  regret. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  extremely  anxious  that  hei 
husband  should  be  re-elected  President  of  the 
United  State's.  In  endeavoring  to  make  a  dis 
play  becoming  her  exalted  position,  she  had  to 
incur  many  expenses.  Mr.  Lincoln's  salary  was 
inadequate  to  meet  them,  and  she  was  forced  to 
run  in  debt,  hoping  that  good  fortune  would 
favor  her,  and  enable  her  to  extricate  herself  from 
an  embarrassing  situation.  She  bought  the  most 
expensive  goods  on  credit,  and  in  the  summer  of 
1864  enormous  unpaid  bills  stared  her  in  the 
face. 

"What  do  you  think  about  the  election,  Liza- 
beth  ?  "  she  said  to  me  one  morning. 


148  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  I  think  that  Mr.  Lincoln  will  remain  in  the 
White  House  four  years  longer,"  I  replied,  look 
ing  up  from  my  work. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  Somehow  I  have 
learned  to  fear  that  he  will  be  defeated." 

"Because  he  has  been  tried,  and  has  proved 
faithful  to  the  best  interests  of  the  country. 
The  people  of  the  North  recognize  in  him  an 
honest  man,  and  they  are  willing  to  confide  in 
him,  at  least  until  the  war  Jias  been  brought  to  a 
close.  The  Southern  people  made  his  election  a 
pretext  for  rebellion,  and  now  to  replace  him  by 
some  one  else,  after  years  of  sanguinary  war,  would 
look  too  much  like  a  surrender  of  the  North. 
So,  Mr.  Lincoln  is  certain  to  be  re-elected.  He 
represents  a  principle,  and  to  maintain  this  prin 
ciple  the  loyal  people  of  the  loyal  States  will  vote 
for  him,  even  if  he  had  no  merits  to  commend 
him." 

"  Your  view  is  a  plausible  one,  Lizabeth,  and 
your  confidence  gives  me  new  hope.  If  he 


Behind  the  Scenes.  14-9 

should  be  defeated,  I  do  not  know  what  would 
become  of  us  all.  To  me,  to  him,  there  is  more 
at  stake  in  this  election  than  he  dreams  of." 

"  What  can  you  mean,  Mrs.  Lincoln  ?  I  do 
not  comprehend." 

"  Simply  this.  I  have  contracted  large  debts, 
of  whicli  he  knows  nothing,  and  which  he  will 
be  unable  to  pay  if  he  is  defeated." 

"  What  are  your  debts,  Mrs.  Lincoln  ? " 

"  They  consist  chiefly  of  store  bills.  I  owe 
altogether  about  twenty-seven  thousand  dollars ; 
the  principal  portion  at  Stewart's,  in  New  York. 
You  understand,  Lizabeth,  that  Mr.  Lincoln  has 
but  little  idea  of  the  expense  of  a  woman's  ward 
robe.  He  glances  at  my  rich  dresses,  and  is 
happy  in  the  belief  that  the  few  hundred  dollars 
that  I  obtain  from  him  supply  all  my  wants.  I 
must  dress  in  costly  materials.  The  people  scru-  ' 
tinize  every  article  that  I  wear  with  critical  curi 
osity.  The  very  fact  of  having  grown  up  in  the 
West,  subjects  me  to  more  searching  observation. 


150  Behind  the  Scenes. 

To  keep  up  appearances,  I  must  have  money — • 
more  than  Mr.  Lincoln  can  spare  for  me.  He  is 
too  honest  to  make  a  penny  outside  of  his  salary ; 
consequently  I  had,  and  still  have,  no  alternative 
but  to  run  in  debt." 

"  And  Mr.  Lincoln  does  not  even  suspect  how 
much  you  owe  ?  " 

"  God,  no  !  " — this  was  a  favorite  expression  of 
hers — "  and  I  would  not  have  him  suspect.  If 
he  knew  that  his  wife  was  involved  to  the  extent 
that  she  is,  the  knowledge  would  drive  him  mad. 
He  is  so  sincere  and  straightforward  himself, 
that  he  is  shocked  by  the  duplicity  of  others. 
He  does  not  know  a  thing  about  any  debts,  and 
I  value  his  happiness,  not  to  speak  of  my  own, 
too  much  to  allow  him  to  know  anything.  This 
is  what  troubles  me  so  much.  If  he  is  re-elected, 
I  can  keep  him  in  ignorance  of  my  affairs ;  but 
if  he  is  defeated,  then  the  bills  will  be  sent  in, 
and  he  will  know  all ; "  and  something  like  a 
hysterical  sob  escaped  her. 


Behind  tJie  Scenes.  151 

Mrs.  Lincoln  sometimes  feared  that  the  poli 
ticians  would  get  hold  of  the  particulars  of  her 
debts,  and  use  them  in  the  Presidential  campaign 
against  her  husband ;  and  when  this  thought  oc 
curred  to  her,  she  was  almost  crazy  with  anxiety 
and  fear. 

When  in  one  of  these  excited  moods,  she 
would  fiercely  exclaim — 

"The  Republican  politicians  must  pay  my 
debts.  Hundreds  of  them  are  getting  immensely 
rich  off  the  patronage  of  my  husband,  and  it  is 
but  fair  that  they  should  help  me  out  of  my 
embarrassment.  I  will  make  a  demand  of  them, 
and  when  I  tell  them  the  facts  they  cannot  re 
fuse  to  advance  whatever  money  1  require." 


CHAPTEK  X. 


THE  SECOND  INAUGURATION. 

ES.  LINCOLN  came  to  raj  apart 
ments  one  day  towards  the  close  of 
the  summer  of  1864,  to  consult  me 
in  relation  to  a  dress.  And  here  let 
me  remark,  I  never  approved  of  ladies,  attached 
to  the  Presidential  household,  coming  to  my 
rooms.  I  always  thought  that  it  would  be  more 
consistent  with  their  dignity  to  send  for  me,  and 
let  me  come  to  them,  instead  of  their  coming  to 
me.  I  may  have  peculiar  notions  about  some 
things,  and  this  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  them. 
No  matter,  I  have  recorded  my  opinion.  I  can- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  153 

not  forget  the  associations  of  my  early  life. 
Well,  Mrs.  Lincoln  came  to  my  rooms,  and,  as 
usual,  she  had  much  to  say  about  the  Presidential 
election. 

After  some  conversation,  she  asked :  "  Lizzie, 
where  do  you  think  I  will  be  this  time  next 
summer  ?  " 

"  Why,  in  the  White  House,  of  course." 

"  I  cannot  believe  so.  I  have  no  hope  of  the 
re-election  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  The  canvass  is  a 
heated  one,  the  people  begin  to  murmur  at  the 
war,  and  every  vile  charge  is  brought  against  my 
husband." 

"  No  matter,"  I  replied,  "  Mr.  Lincoln  will 
be  re-elected.  I  am  so  confident  of  it,  that  I  am 
tempted  to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

"  A  favor !  Well,  if  we  remain  in  the  White 
House  I  shall  be  able  to  do  you  many  favors. 
What  is  the  special  favor  ?  " 

"  Simply  this,  Mrs.  Lincoln — I  should  like  for 
you  to  make  me  a  present  of  the  right-hand  glove 


154  Behind  the  Scenes. 

that  the  President  wears  at  the  first  public  recep 
tion  after  his  second  inaugural'." 

"  You  shall  have  it  in  welcome.  It  will  be  so 
filthy  when  he  pulls  it  off,  I  shall  be  tempted  to 
take  the  tongs  and  put  it  in  the  fire.  I  cannot 
imagine,  Lizabeth,  what  you  want  with  such  a 
glove." 

"I  shall  cherish  it  as  a  precious  memento  of 
the  second  inauguration  of  the  man  who  has  done 
so  much  for  my  race.  He  has  been  a  Jehovah  to 
my  people — has  lifted  them  out  of  bondage,  and 
directed  their  footsteps  from  darkness  into  light. 
I  shall  keep  the  glove,  and  hand  it  down  to  pos 
terity." 

"  You  have  some  strange  ideas,  Lizabeth. 
Never  mind,  you  shall  have  the  glove ;  that  is,  if 
Mr.  Lincoln  continues  President  after  the  4th  of 
March  next." 

I  held  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  her  promise.  That 
glove  is  now  in  my  possession,  bearing  the  marks 
of  the  thousands  of  hands  that  grasped  the  honest 


Behind  the  Scenes.  155 

hand  of  Mr.  Lincoln  on  that  eventful  night. 
Alas  !  it  has  become  a  prouder,  sadder  memento 
than  I  ever  dreamed — prior  to  making  the  re 
quest — it  would  be. 

In  due  time  the  election  came  off,  and  all  of 
my  predictions  were  verified.  The  loyal  States 
decided  that  Mr.  Lincoln  should  continue  at  the 
nation's  helm.  Autumn  faded,  winter  dragged 
slowly  by,  and  still  the  country  resounded  with 
the  clash  of  arms.  The  South  was  suffering,  yet 
suffering  was  borne  with  heroic  determination, 
and  the  army  continued  to  present  a  bold,  defiant 
front.  With  the  first  early  breath  of  spring, 
thousands  of  people  gathered  in  Washington  to 
witness  the  second  inauguration  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  as  President  of  the  United  States.  It 
was  a  stirring  day  in  the  National  Capital,  and 
one  that  will  never  fade  from  the  memory  of 
those  wKo  witnessed  the  imposing  ceremonies. 
The  morning  was  dark  and  gloomy ;  clouds  hung 
like  a  pall  in  the  sky,  as  if  portending  some 


156  Behitid  the  Scenes. 

great  disaster.  But  when  the  President  stepped 
forward  to  receive  the  oath  of  office,  the  clouds 
parted,  and  a  ray  of  sunshine  streamed  from  the 
heavens  to  fall  upon  and  gild  his  face.  It  is  also 
said  that  a  brilliant  star  was  seen  at  noon-day. 
It  was  the  noon-day  of  life  with  Mr.  Lincoln, 
and  the  star,  as  viewed  in  the  light  of  subsequent 
events,  was  emblematic  of  a  summons  from  on 
high.  This  was  Saturday,  and  on  Monday  eve 
ning  I  went  to  the  White  House  to  dress  Mrs. 
Lincoln  for  the  first  grand  levee.  While  arrang 
ing  Mrs.  L.'s  hair,  the  President  came  in.  It 
was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  him  since  the  inau 
guration,  and  I  went  up  to  him,  proffering  my 
hand  with  words  of  congratulation. 

He  grasped  my  outstretched  hand  warmly, 
and  held  it  while  he  spoke  :  "  Thank  you.  Well, 
Madam  Elizabeth  " — he  always  called  me  Madam 
Elizabeth — "  I  don't  know  whether  I  should  feel 
thankful  or  not.  The  position  brings  with  it 
many  trials.  We  do  not  know  what  we  are  des- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  157 

tined  to  pass  through.  But  God  will  be  with  us 
all.  I  put  my  trust  in  God."  He  dropped  my 
hand,  and  with  solemn  face  walked  across  the 
room  and  took  his  seat  on  the  sofa.  Prior  to 
this  I  had  congratulated  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  she  had 
answered  with  a  sigh,  "Thank  you,  Elizabeth ; 
but  now  that  we  have  won  the  position,  I  almost 
wish  it  were  otherwise.  Poor  Mr.  Lincoln  is 
looking  so  broken-hearted,  so  completely  worn 
out,  I  fear  he  will  not  get  through  the  next 
four  years."  Was  it  a  presentiment  that  made 
her  take  a  sad  view  of  the  future  ?  News  from 
the  front  was  never  more  cheering.  On  every 
side  the  Confederates  were  losing  ground,  and 
the  lines  of  blue  were  advancing  in  triumph. 
As  I  would  look  out  my  window  almost  every 
day,  I  could  see  the  artillery  going  past  on  its 
way  to  the  open  space  of  ground,  to  fire  a  salute 
in  honor  of  some  new  victory.  From  every 
point  came  glorious  news  of  the  success  of  the 
soldiers  that  fought  for  the  Union.  And  yet, 


158  Behind  the  Scenes. 

in  their  private  chamber,  away  from  the  curious 
eyes  of  the  world,  the  President  and  his  wife 
wore  sad,  anxious  faces. 

I  finished  dressing  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  she  took 

O  " 

the  President's  arm  and  went  below.  It  was  one 
of  the  largest  receptions  ever  held  in  "Washing 
ton.  Thousands  crowded  the  halls  and  rooms  of 
the  White  House,  eager  to  shake  Mr.  Lincoln  by 
his  hand,  and  receive  a  gracious  smile  from  his 
wife.  The  jam  was  terrible,  and  the  enthusiasm 
great.  The  President's  hand  was  well  shaken, 
and  the  next  day,  on  visiting  Mrs.  Lincoln,  I  re 
ceived  the  soiled  glove  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had 
worn  on  his  right  hand  that  night. 

Many  colored  people  were  in  Washington,  and 
large  numbers  had  desired  to  attend  the  levee, 
but  orders  were  issued  not  to  admit  them.  A 
gentleman,  a  member-  of  Congress,  on  his  way 
to  the  White  House,  recognized  Mr.  Frederick 
Douglass,  the  eloquent  colored  orator,  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  crowd. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  159 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Douglass  ?  A  fearful 
jam  to-night.  You  are  going  in,  of  course  ?  " 

"  No — that  is,  no  to  your  last  question." 

"Not  going  in  to  shake  the  President  by  the 
hand  !  Why,  pray  ?  " 

"  The  best  reason  in  the  world.  Strict 
orders  have  been  issued  not  to  admit  people  of 
color." 

"  It  is  a  shame,  Mr.  Douglass,  that  you  should 
thus  be  placed  under  ban.  Never  mind ;  wait 
here,  and  I  will  see  what  can  be  done." 

The  gentleman  entered  the  "White  House,  and 
working  his  way  to  the  President,  asked  permis 
sion  to  introduce  Mr.  Douglass  to  him. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln.  "  Bring  Mr. 
Douglass  in,  by  all  means.  I  shall  be  glad  to 
meet  him." 

The  gentleman  returned,  and  soon  Mr. 
Douglass  stood  face  to  face  with  the  President. 
Mr.  Lincoln  pressed  his  hand  warmly,  saying: 
"  Mr.  Douglass,  I  am  glad  to  meet  you.  I  have 


160  Behind  the  Scenes. 

long  admired  your  course,  and  I  value  your 
opinions  highly." 

Mr.  Douglass  was  very  proud  of  the  manner  in 
which  Mr.  Lincoln  received  him.  On  leaving 

O 

the  White  House  he  came  to  a  friend's  house 
where  a  reception  was  being  held,  and  he  related 
the  incident  with  great  pleasure  to  myself  and 
others. 

On  the  Monday  following  the  reception  at  the 
White  House,  everybody  was  busy  preparing  for 
the  grand  inaugural  ball  to  come  off  that  night. 
I  was  in  Mrs.  Lincoln's  room  the  greater 
portion  of  the  day.  While  dressing  her  that 
night,  the  President  came  in,  and  I  remarked  to 
him  how  much  Mr.  Douglass  had  been  pleased  on 
the  night  he  was  presented  to  Mr.  Lincoln.  Mrs. 
L.  at  once  turned  to  her  husband  with  the 
inquiry,  "  Father,  why  was  not  Mr.  Douglass 
introduced  to  me  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know.     I  thought  he  was  presented." 

"'But  he  was  not." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  161 

"  It  must  have  been  an  oversight  then,  mother ; 
I  am  sorry  you  did  not  meet  him." 

I  finished  dressing  her  for  the  ball,  and  ac 
companied  her  to  the  door.  She  was  dressed 
magnificently,  and  entered  the  ball-room  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  Senato'r  Sumner,  a  gentleman  that 
she  very  much  admired.  Mr.  Lincoln  walked 
into  the  ball-room  accompanied  by  two  gentle 
men.  This  ball  closed  the  season.  It  was  the 
last  time  that  the  President  and  his  wife  ever 
appeared  in  public. 

Some  days  after,  Mrs.  Lincoln,  with  a  party  of 
friends,  went  to  City  Point  on  a  visit. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  had  returned  to  Washington  prior 
to  the  2d  of  April.  On  Monday,  April  3d,  Mrs. 
Secretary  Harlan  came  into  my  room  with  ma 
terial  for  a  dress.  While  conversing  with  her,  I 
saw  artillery  pass  the  window ;  and  as  it  was  on 
its  way  to  fire  a  salute,  I  inferred  that  good  news 
had  been  received  at  the  War  Department.  My 
reception-room  was  on  one  side  of  the  street,  and 


1C>2  Behind  the  Scenes. 

my  work-room  on  the  other  sidev.  Inquiring  the 
cause  of  the  demonstration,  we  were  told  that 
Richmond  had  fallen.  Mrs.  Harlan  took  one  of 
my  hands  in  each  of  her  own,  and  we  rejoiced 
together.  I  ran  across  to  my  work-room,  and 
on  entering  it,  discovered  that  the  girls  in  my 
employ  also  had  heard  the  good  news.  They 
were  particularly  elated,  as  it  was  reported  that 
the  rebel  capital  had  surrendered  to  colored 
troops.  I  had  promised  my  employees  a  holi 
day  when  Richmond  should  fall ;  and  now  that 
Richmond  had  fallen,  they  reminded  me  of  my 
promise. 

I  recrossed  to  my  reception-room,  and  Mrs. 
Harlan  told  me  that  the  good  news  was  enough 
for  her — she  could  afford  to  wait  for  her  dress, 
and  to  give  the  girls  a  holiday  and  a  treat,  by  all 
means.  She  returned  to  her  house,  and  I  joined 
my  girls  in  the  joy  of  the  long-promised  holiday. 
We  wandered  about  the  streets  of  the  city  with 
happy  faces,  and  hearts  overflowing  with  joy. 


Behind  tJie  Scenes.  163 

The  clerks  in  the  various  departments  also 
enjoyed  a  holiday,  and  they  improved  it  by 
getting  gloriously  fuddled.  Towards  evening  I 
saw  S.,  and  many  other  usually  clear-headed 
men,  in  the  street,  in  a  confused,  uncertain 
state  of  mind. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  had  invited  me  to  accompany 
her  to  City  Point.  I  went  to  the  White  House, 
and  told  her  that  if  she  intended  to  return,  I 
would  regard  it  as  a  privilege  to  go  with  her,  as 
City  Point  was  near  Petersburg,  my  old  home. 
Mrs.  L.  said  she  designed  returning,  and  would 
be  delighted  to  take  me  with  her;  so  it  was 
arranged  that  I  should  accompany  her. 

A  few  days  after  we  were  on  board  the 
steamer,  en  route  for  City  Point.  Mrs.  Lincoln 
was  joined  by  Mrs.  Secretary  Harlan  and  daugh 
ter,  Senator  Sumner,  and  several  other  gentle 
men. 

Prior  to  this,  Mr.  Lincoln  had  started  for  City 
Point,  and  before  we  reached  our  destination  he 


1G-1  Behind  the  Scenes. 

had  visited  Richmond,  Petersburg,  and  other 
points.  We  arrived  on  Friday,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
was  much  disappointed  when  she  learned  that 
the  President  had  visited  the  late  Confederate 
capital,  as  she  had  greatly  desired  to  be  with  him 
when  he  entered  the  conquered  stronghold.  It 
was  immediately  arranged  that  the  entire  party 
on  board  the  River  Queen  should  visit  Rich 
mond,  and  other  points,  with  the  President. 
The  next  morning,  after  the  arrangement  was 
perfected,  we  were  steaming  up  James  River— 
the  river  that  so  long  had  been  impassable,  even 
to  our  gunboats.  The  air  wras  balmy,  and  the 
banks  of  the  river  were  beautiful,  and  fragrant 
with  the  first  sweet  blossoms  of  spring.  For 
hours  I  stood  on  deck,  breathing  the  pure  air, 
and  viewing  the  landscape  on  either  side  of  the 
majestically  flowing  river.  Here  stretched  fair 
fields,  emblematic  of  peace — and  here  deserted 
camps  and  frowning  forts,  speaking  of  the  stern 
vicissitudes  of  war.  Alas  !  how  many  changes 


Behind  the  Scenes.  165 

had  taken  place  since  my  eye  had  wandered  over 
the  classic  fields  of  dear  old  Virginia  !  A  birth 
place  is  always  dear,  no  matter  under  what  cir 
cumstances  you  were  born,  since  it  revives  in 
memory  the  golden  hours  of  childhood,  free  from 
philosophy,  and  the  warm  kiss  of  a  mother.  I 
wondered  if  I  should  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  fami 
liar  face  ;  I  wondered  what  had  become  of  those 
I  once  knew;  had  they  fallen  in  battle,  been 
scattered  by  the  relentless  tide  of  war,  or  were 
they  still  living  as  they  lived  when  last  I  saw 
them  ?  I  wondered,  now  that  Richmond  had 
fallen,  and  Virginia  been  restored  to  the  cluster 
ing  stars  of  the  Union,  if  the  people  would  come 
together  in  the  bonds  of  peace ;  and  as  I  gazed 
and  wondered,  the  River  Queen  rapidly  carried 
us  to  our  destination. 

The  Presidential  party  were  all  curiosity  on 
entering  Richmond.  They  drove  about  the 
streets  of  the  city,  and  examined  every  object  of 
interest.  The  Capitol  presented  a  desolate  ap- 


166  Behind  the  Scenes. 

pearance — desks  broken,  and  papers  scattered  pro 
miscuously  in  the  hurried  flight  of  the  Confeder 
ate  Congress.  /  I  picked  up  a  number  of  papers, 
and,  by  curious  coincidence,  the  resolution  pro 
hibiting  all  free  colored  people  from  entering  the 
State  of  Virginia.  In  the  Senate  chamber  I  sat 
in  the  chair  that  Jefferson  Davis  sometimes  occu 
pied  ;  also  in  the  chair  of  the  Vice-President, 
Alexander  II.  Stephens.  "We  paid  a  visit  to  the 
mansion  occupied  by  Mr.  Davis  and  family  during 
the  war,  and  the  ladies  who  were  in  charge  of  it 
scowled  darkly  upon  our  party  as  we  passed 
through  and  inspected  the  different  rooms.  After 
a  delightful  visit  we  returned  to  City  Point. 

That  night,  in  the  cabin  of  the  River  Queen, 
smiling  faces  gathered  around  the  dinner-table. 
One  of  the  guests  was  a  young  officer  attached 
to  the  Sanitary  Commission.  He  was  seated  near 
Mrs.  Lincoln,  arid,  by  way  of  pleasantry,  re 
marked  :  "  Mrs.  Lincoln,  you  should  have  seen 
the  President  the  other  day,  on  his  triumphal 


jBehind  the  Scenes.  167 

entry  into  Richmond.  He  was  the  cynosure  of  all 
eyes.  The  ladies  kissed  their  hands  to  him,  and 
greeted  him  with  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs. 
He  is  quite  a  hero  when  surrounded  by  pretty 
young  ladies." 

The  young  officer  suddenly  paused  with  a  look 
of  embarrassment.  Mrs.  Lincoln  turned  to  him 
with  flashing  eyes,  with  the  remark  that  his  fami 
liarity  was  offensive  to  her.  Quite  a  scene  fol 
lowed,  and  I  do  not  think  that  the  Captain  who 
incurred  Mrs.  Lincoln's  displeasure  will  ever 
forget  that  memorable  evening  in  the  cabin  of 
the  River  Queen,  at  City  Point. 

Saturday  morning  the  whole  party  decided  to 
visit  Petersburg,  and  I  was  only  too  eager  to  ac 
company  them. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  city,  numbers  crowded 
around  the  train,  and  a  little  ragged  negro  boy 
ventured  timidly  into  the  car  occupied  by  Mr. 
Lincoln  and  immediate  friends,  and  in  replying 
to  numerous  questions,  used  the  word  "  tote." 


168  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  Tote,"  remarked  Mr.  Lincoln ;  "  what  do  you 
mean  by  tote  ? " 

"  Why,  massa,  to  tote  um  on  your  back." 

"  Yery  definite,  my  son ;  I  presume  when  you 
tote  a  thing,  you  carry  it.  By  the  way,  Sum- 
ner,"  turning  to  the  Senator,  "  what  is  the  origin 
of  tote  ? " 

"  Its  origin  is  said  to  be  African.  The  Latin 
word  totum,  from  totus,  means  all — an  entire 
body — the  whole." 

"  But  my  young  friend  here  did  not  mean  an 
entire  body,  or  anything  of  the  kind,  when  he 
said  he  would  tote  my  things  for  me,"  inter 
rupted  the  President. 

"  Yery  true,"  continued  the  Senator.  u  He 
used  the  word  tote  in  the  African  sense,  to  carry, 
to  bear.  Tote  in  this  sense  is  denned  in  our 
standard  dictionaries  as  a  colloquial  word  of  the 
Southern  States,  used  especially  by  the  negroes." 

"  Then  you  regard  the  wrord  as  a  good  one  ? " 

"  Not  elegant,  certainly.     For  myself,  I  should 


Behind  the  Scenes.  169 

prefer  a  better  word ;  but  since  it  has  been  estab 
lished  by  usage,  I  cannot  refuse  to  recognize  it." 

Thus  the  conversation  proceeded  in  pleasant 
style. 

Getting  out  of  the  car,  the  President  and  those 
with  him  went  to  visit  the  forts  and  other  scenes, 
while  I  wandered  off  by  myself  in  search  of  those 
whom  I  had  known  in  other  days.  War,  grim- 
vis  aged  war,  I  soon  discovered  had  brought 
many  changes  to  the  city  so  well  known  to  me 
in  the  days  of  my  youth.  I  found  a  number  of 
old  friends,  but  the  greater  portion  of  the  popu 
lation  were  strange  to  me.  The  scenes  suggested 
painful  memories,  and  I  was  not  sorry  to  turn 
my  back  again  upon  the  city.  A  large,  pecu 
liarly  shaped  oak  tree,  I  well  remember,  attract 
ed  the  particular  attention  of  the  President ;  it 
grew  upon  the  outskirts  of  Petersburg,  and  as  he 
had  discovered  it  on  his  first  visit,  a  few  days 

previous  to  the  second,  he  insisted  that  the  party 

- 

should  go  with  him  to  take  a  look  at  the  isolated 

8 


170  Behind  th-e  Scenes. 

and  magnificent  specimen  of  the  stately  grandeur 
of  the  forest.  Every  member  of  the  party  was 
only  too  willing  to  accede  to  the  President's  re 
quest,  and  the  visit  to  the  oak  was  made,  and 
much  enjoyed. 

On  our  return  to  City  Point  from  Petersburg 
the  train  moved  slowly,  and  the  President,  ob 
serving  a  terrapin  basking  in  the  warm  sunshine 
on  the  wayside,  had  the  conductor  stop  the 
train,  and  one  of  the  brakemen  bring  the  terrapin 
in  to  him.  The  movements  of  the  ungainly  little 
animal  seemed  to  delight  him,  and  he  amused 
himself  with  it  until  we  reached  James  River, 
where  our  steamer  lay.  Tad  stood  near,  and 
joined  in  the  happy  laugh  with  his  father. 

For  a  week  the  River  Queen  remained  in 
James  River,  anchored  the  greater  portion  of  the 
time  at  City  Point,  and  a  pleasant  and  memora 
ble  week  was  it  to  all  on  board.  During  the 
whole  of  this  time  a  yacht  lay  in  the  stream 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  and  its  peculiar 


Behind  the  Scenes.  171 

movements  attracted  the  attention  of  all  on 
board.  General  Grant  and  Mrs.  Grant  were 
on  our  steamer  several  times,  and  many  distin 
guished  officers  of  the  army  also  were  enter 
tained  by  the  President  and  his  party. 

Mr.  Lincoln,  when  not  off  on  an  excursion  of 
any  kind,  lounged  about  the  boat,  talking  fami 
liarly  with  every  one  that  approached  him. 

The  day  before  we  started  on  our  journey 
back  to  Washington,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  engaged 
in  reviewing  the  troops  in  camp.  He  returned 
to  the  boat  in  the  evening,  with  a  tired,  weary 
look. 

"  Mother,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "  I  have  shaken 
so  many  hands  to-day  that  my  arms  ache'  to 
night.  I  almost  wish  that  I  could  go  to  bed 
now." 

As  the  twilight  shadows  deepened  the  lamps 
were  lighted,  and  the  boat  WAS  brilliantly  il 
luminated  ;  as  it  lay  in  the  river,  decked  with 
many-colored  lights,  it  looked  like  an  enchanted 


172  Behind  the  Scenes. 

floating  palace.  A  military  band  was  on  board, 
and  as  the  hours  lengthened  into  night  it  dis 
coursed  sweet  music.  Many  officers  came  on 
board  to  say  good-by,  and  the  scene  was  a  bril 
liant  one  indeed.  About  10  o'clock  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  called  upon  to  make  a  speech.  Rising  to 
his  feet,  he  said  : 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
I  am  too  tired  to  speak  to-night.  On  next 
Tuesday  night  I  make  a  speech  in  Washington, 
at  which  time  you  will  learn  all  I  have  to  say. 
And  now,  by  way  of  parting  from  the  brave 
soldiers  of  our  gallant  army,  I  call  upon  the  band 
to  play  Dixie.  It  has  always  been  a  favorite  of 
mine,  and  since  we  have  captured  it,  we  have  a 
perfect  right  to  enjoy  it."  On  taking  his  seat 
the  band  at  once  struck  up  with  Dixie,  that 
sweet,  inspiring  air ;  and  when  the  music  died 
away,  there  were  clapping  of  hands  and  other 
manifestations  of  applause. 

At  11  o'clock  the  last  good-by  was  spoken,  the 


Behind  the  Scenes.  173 

lights  were  taken  down,  the  River  Queen  round 
ed  out  into  the  water  and  we  were  on  our 
way  back  to  Washington.  We  arrived  at  the 
Capital  at  6  o'clock  on  Sunday  evening,  where 
the  party  separated,  each  going  to  his  and  her  own 
home.  This  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  trips 
of  my  life,  and  I  always  revert  to  it  with  feelings 
of  genuine  pleasure. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

THE  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


mm? 


HAD  never  heard  Mr.  Lincoln  make 
a  public  speech,  and,  knowing  the 
man  so  well,  was  very  anxious  to 
hear  him.  On  the  morning  of  the 
Tuesday  after  our  return  from  City  Point,  Mrs. 
Lincoln  came  to  my  apartments,  and  before  she 
drove  away  I  asked  permission  to  come  to  the 
White  House  that  night  and  hear  Mr.  Lincoln 
speak. 

"  Certainly,  Lizabeth  ;  if  you  take  any  interest 
in  political  speeches,  come  and  listen  in  wel 
come." 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Lincoln.     May  I   trespass 


Behind  the  Scenes.  175 

further  on  your  kindness  by  asking  permission  to 
bring  a  friend  with  me  ? " 

"Yes,  bring  your  friend  also.  By  the  way, 
come  in  time  to  dress  me  before  the  speaking 
commences." 

"  I  will  be  in  time.  You  may  rely  upon  that. 
Good  morning,"  I  added,  as  she  swept  from  my 
room,  and,  passing  out  into  the  street,  entered  her 
carriage  and  drove  away. 

About  7  o'clock  that  evening  I  entered  the 
White  House.  As  I  went  up-stairs  I  glanced 
into  Mr.  Lincoln's  room  through  the  half-open 
door,  and  seated  by  a  desk  was  the  President, 
looking  over  his  notes  and  muttering  to  himself. 
His  face  was  thoughtful,  his  manner  abstracted, 
and  I  knew,  as  I  paused  a  moment  to  watch  him, 
that  he  was  rehearsing  the  part  that  he  was  to 
play  in  the  great  drama  soon  to  commence. 

Proceeding  to  Mrs.  Lincoln's  apartment,  I 
worked  with  busy  fingers,  and  in  a  short  time 
her  toilette  was  completed. 


176  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Great  crowds  began  to  gather  in  front  of  the 
White  House,  and  loud  calls  were  made  for 
the  President.  The  band  stopped  playing,  and 
as  he  advanced  to  the  centre  window  over  the 
door  to  make  his  address,  I  looked  out,  and 
never  saw  such  a  mass  of  heads  before.  It  was 
like  a  black,  gently  swelling  sea.  The  swaying 
motion  of  the  crowd,  in  the  dim  uncertain  light, 
was  like  the  rising  and  falling  of  billows — like 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide  upon  the  stranded 
shore  of  the  ocean.  Close  to  the  house  the  faces 
were  plainly  discernible,  but  they  faded  into 
mere  ghostly  outlines  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
assembly  ;  and  what  added  to  the  weird,  spectral 
beauty  of  the  scene,  was  the  confused  hum  of 
voices  that  rose  above  the  sea  of  forms,  sounding 
like  the  subdued,  sullen  roar  of  an  ocean  storm, 
or  the  wind  soughing  through  the  dark  lonely 
forest.  It  was  a  grand  and  imposing  scene,  and 
when  the  President,  with  pale  face  and  his  soul 
flashing  through  his  eyes,  advanced  to  speak,  he 


Behind  the  Scenes.  ITT 

looked  more  like  a  demi-god  than  a  man 
crowned  with  the  fleeting  days  of  mortality. 

The  moment  the  President  appeared  at  the 
window  he  was  greeted  with  a  storm  of  applause, 
and  voices  re-echoed  the  cry,  "  A  light !  a  light !  " 

A  lamp  was  brought,  and  little  Tad  at  once 
rushed  to  his  father's  side,  exclaiming : 

"  Let  me  hold  the  light,  Papa  !  let  me  hold  the 
light ! " 

Mrs.  Lincoln  directed  that  the  wish  of  her  son 
be  gratified,  and  the  lamp  was  transferred  to  his 
hands.  The  father  and  son  standing  there  in  the 
presence  of  thousands  of  free  citizens,  the  one  lost 
in  a  chain  of  eloquent  ideas,  the  other  looking  up 
into  the  speaking  face  with  a  proud,  manly  look, 
formed  a  beautiful  and  striking  tableau. 

There  were  a  number  of  distinguished  gentle 
men,  as  well  as  ladies,  in  the  room,  nearly  all  of 
whom  remarked  the  picture. 

I  stood  a  short  distance  from  Mr.  Lincoln,  and 
as  the  light  from  the  lamp  fell  full  upon  him, 


178  Behind  the  Scenes. 

making  him  stand  out  boldly  in  the  darkness,  a 
sudden  thought  struck  me,  and  I  whispered  to 
the  friend  at  my  side  : 

"  What  an  easy  matter  would  it  be  to  kill  the 
President,  as  he  stands  there  !  lie  could  be  shot 
down  from  the  crowd,  and  no  one  be  able  to  tell 
who  fired  the  shot." 

I  do  not  know  what  put  such  an  idea  into  my 
head,  unless  it  was  the  sudden  remembrance  of 
the  many  warnings  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  received. 

The  next  day,  I  made  mention  to  Mrs.  Lincoln 
of  the  idea  that  had  impressed  me  so  strangely 
the  night  before,  and  she  replied  with  a  sigh  : 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Lincoln's  life  is  always  exposed. 
Ah,  no  one  knowrs  what  it  is  to  live  in  constant 
dread  of  some  fearful  tragedy.  The  President 
has  been  warned  so  often,  that  I  tremble  for  him 
on  every  public  occasion.  I  have  a  presentiment 
that  he  will  meet  with  a  sudden  and  violent  end. 
I  pray  God  to  protect  my  beloved  husband  from 
the  hands  of  the  assassin." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  179 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  fond  of  pets.  He  had  two 
goats  that  knew  the  sound  of  his  voice,  and  when 
he  called  them  they  would  come  bounding  to  his 
side.  In  the  warm  bright  days,  he  and  Tad  would 
sometimes  play  in  the  yard  with  these  goats, 
for  an  hour  at  a  time.  One  Saturday  afternoon 
I  went  to  the  White  House  to  dress  Mrs.  Lin 
coln.  I  had  nearly  completed  my  task  when  the 
President  came  in.  It  was  a  bright  day,  and 
walking  to  the  window,  he  looked  down  into  the 
yard,  smiled,  and,  turning  to  me,  asked  : 

"  Madam  Elizabeth,  you  are  fond  of  pets,  are 
you  not «  " 

"  O  yes.  sir,"  I  answered. 

*/ 

"  Well,  come  here  and  look  at  my  two  goats. 
I  believe  they  are  the  kindest  and  best  goats  in 
the  world.  See  how  they  sniff  the  clear  air,  and 
skip  and  play  in  the  sunshine.  Whew !  what  a 
jump,"  he  exclaimed  as  one  of  the  goats  made  a 
lofty  spring.  "  Madam  Elizabeth,  did  you  ever 
before  see  such  an  active  goat  ? "  Musing  a 


180  Behind  the  Scenes. 

moment,  he  continued :  "  He  feeds  on  my  bounty, 
and  jumps  with  joy.  Do  you  think  we  could 
call  him  a  bounty-jumper?  But  I  flatter  the 
bounty-jumper.  My  goat  is  far  above  him.  I 
would  rather  wear  his  horns  and  hairy  coat 
through  life,  than  demean  myself  to  the  level  of 
the  man  who  plunders  the  national  treasury  in 
the  name  of  patriotism.  The  man  who  enlists 
into  the  service  for  a  consideration,  and  deserts  the 
moment  he  receives  his  money  but  to  repeat  the 
play,  is  bad  enough  ;  but  the  men  who  manipulate 
the  grand  machine  and  who  simply  make  the 
bounty-jumper  their  agent  in  an  outrageous  fraud 
are  far  worse.  They  are  beneath  the  worms 
that  crawl  in  the  dark  hidden  places  of  earth." 

His  lips  curled  with  haughty  scorn,  and  a 
cloud  was  gathering  on  his  brow.  Only  a  moment 
the  shadow  rested  on  his  face.  Just  then  both 
goats  looked  up  at  the  window  and  shook  their 
heads  as  if  they  wrould  say  "  How  d'ye  do,  old 
friend  ?" 


Behind  the  Scenes.  181 

"  See,  Madam  Elizabeth,"  exclaimed  the  Presi 
dent  in  a  tone  of  enthusiasm,  "my  pets  recognize 
me.  How  earnestly  they  look !  There  they  go  again ; 
what  jolly  fun  !"  and  he  laughed  outright  as  the 
goats  bounded  swiftly  to  the  other  side  of  the  yard. 
Just  then  Mrs.  Lincoln  called  out,  "  Come,  Liza- 
beth ;  if  I  get  ready  to  go  down  this  evening  I 
must  finish  dressing  myself,  or  you  must  stop 
staring  at  those  silly  goats." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  not  fond  of  pets,  and  she 
could  not  understand  how  Mr.  Lincoln  could 
take  so  much  delight  in  his  goats.  After  Willie's 
death,  she  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  anything 
he  loved,  not  even  a  flower.  Costly  bouquets 
were  presented  to  her,  but  she  turned  from  them 
with  a  shudder,  and  either  placed  them  in  a 
room  where  she  could  not  see  them,  or  threw 
them  out  of  the  window.  She  gave  all  of 
Willie's  toys — everything  connected  with  him— 
away,  as  she  said  she  could  not  look  upon  them 
without  thinking  of  her  poor  dead  boy,  and  to 


182  Behind  the  Scenes. 

think  of  him,  in  his  white  shroud  and  cold  grave, 
was  maddening.  I  never  in  my  life  saw  a  more 
peculiarly  constituted  woman.  Search  the  world 
over,  and  you  will  not  find  her  counterpart. 
After  Mr.  Lincoln's  death,  the  goats  that  he 
loved  so  well  were  given  away — I  believe  to 
Mrs.  Lee,  nee  Miss  Blair,  one  of  the  few  ladies 
with  whom  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  on  intimate  terms 
in  Washington. 

During  my  residence  in  the  Capital  I  made  my 
home  writh  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walker  Lewis,  people 
of  my  own  race,  and  friends  in  the  truest  sense 
of  the  word. 

The  days  passed  without  any  incident  of  par 
ticular  note  disturbing  the  current  of  life.  On 
Friday  morning,  April  14th — alas!  what  Ameri 
can  does  not  remember  the  day— I  saw  Mrs. 
Lincoln  'but  for  a  moment.  She  told  me  that 
she  was  to  attend  the  theatre  that  night  with  the 
President, 'but  I  wTas  not  summoned  to  assist  her 
in  making  her  toilette.  Sherman  had  swept  from 


Behind  the  Scenes.  1S3 

the  northern  border  of  Georgia  through  the  heart 
of  the  Confederacy  down  to  the  sea,  striking  the 
death-blow  to  the  rebellion.  Grant  had  pursued 
General  Lee  beyond  Richmond,  and  the  army  of 
Virginia,  that  had  made  such  stubborn  resistance, 
was  crumbling  to  pieces.  Fort  Sumter  had 
fallen;— the  stronghold  first  wrenched  from  the 
Union,  and  which  had  braved  the  fury  of  Federal 
guns  for  so  many  years,  was  restored  to  the 
Union ;  the  end  of  the  war  was  near  at  hand, 
and  the  great  pulse  of  the  loyal  North  thrilled 
with  joy.  The  dark  war-cloud  was  fading,  and 
a  white-robed  angel  seemed  to  hover  in  the  sky, 
whispering  "  Peace — peace  on  earth,  good-will 
toward  men  !  "  Sons,  brothers,  fathers,  friends, 
sweethearts  were  coming  home.  Soon  the  white 
tents  would  be  folded,  the  volunteer  army  be  dis 
banded,  and  tranquillity  again  reign.  Happy, 
happy  day ! — happy  at  least  to  those  wrho  fought 
under  the  banner  of  the  Union.  There  was 
great  rejoicing  throughout  the  North.  From  the 


184  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  flags  were  gayly  thrown  to 
the  breeze,  and  at  night  every  city  blazed  with 
its  tens  of  thousand  lights.  But  scarcely  had 
the  fireworks  ceased  to  play,  and  the  lights  been 
taken  down  from  the  windows,  when  the  light 
ning  flashed  the  most  appalling  news  over  the 
magnetic  wires.  "  The  President  has  been  mur 
dered  ! "  spoke  the  swift- winged  messenger,  and 
the  loud  huzza  died  upon  the  lips.  A  nation  sud 
denly  paused  in  the  midst  of  festivity,  and  stood 
paralyzed  with  horror — transfixed  with  awe. 

Oh,  memorable  day  !  Oh,  memorable  night ! 
Never  before  was  joy  so  violently  contrasted  with 
sorrow. 

At  11  o'clock  at  night  I  was  awakened  by 
an  old  friend  and  neighbor,  Miss  M.  Brown,  with 
the  startling  intelligence  that  the  entire  Cabinet 
had  been  assassinated,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  shot,  but 
not  mortally  wounded.  When  I  heard  the  words 
I  felt  as  if  the  blood  had  been  frozen  in  my  veins, 
and  that  my  lungs  must  collapse  for  the  want  of 


Behind  the  Scenes.  185 

air.  Mr.  Lincoln  shot !  the  Cabinet  assassinated  !• 
What  could  it  mean?  The  streets  were  alive 
with  wondering,  awe-stricken  people.  Rumors 
flew  thick  and  fast,  and  the  wildest  reports  came 
with  every  new  arrival.  The  words  were  repeat 
ed  with  blanched  cheeks  and  quivering  lips.  I 
waked  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lewis,  and  told  them  that 
the  President  was  shot,  and  that  I  must  go  to  the 
White  House.  I  could  not  remain  in  a  state  of 
"uncertainty.  I  felt  that  the  house  would  not  hold 
me.  They  tried  to  quiet  me,  but  gentle  words 
could  not  cairn  the  wild  tempest.  They  quickly 
dressed  themselves,  and  we  sallied  out  into  the 
street  to  drift  with  the  excited  throng.  We 
walked  rapidly  towards  the  White  House,  and  on 
our  way  passed  the  residence  of  Secretary  Seward, 
which  was  surrounded  by  armed  soldiers,  keeping 
back  all  intruders  with  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 
We  hurried  on,  and  as  we  approached  the  White 
House,  saw  that  it  too  was  surrounded  with  soi- 
diers.  Every  entrance  was  strongly  guarded,  and 


186  Behind  the  Scenes. 

no  one  was  permitted  to  pass.  The  guard  at  the 
gate  told  us  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  not  been 
brought  home,  but  refused  to  give  anj  other 
information.  More  excited  than  ever,  we  wan 
dered  down  the  street.  Grief  and  anxiety  were 
making  me  wreak,  and  as  we  joined  the  outskirts 
of  a  large  crowd,  I  began  to  feel  as  meek  and 
humble  as  a  penitent  child.  A  gray-haired  old 
man  was  passing.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  his 
face,  and  it  seemed  so  full  of  kindness  and  sorrow 
that  I  gently  touched  his  arm,  and  imploringly 
asked : 

"  Will  you  please,  sir,  to  tell  me  whether  Mr. 
Lincoln  is  dead  or  not  ? " 

"Not  dead,"  he  replied,  "but  dying.  God 
help  us  !  "  and  with  a  heavy  step  he  passed  on. 

"Not  dead,  but  dying!  then  indeed  God 
help  us ! " 

We  learned  that  the  President  was  mortally 
wounded — that  he  had  been  shot  down  in  his  box 
at  the  theatre,  and  that  he  was  not  expected  to 


Behind  the  Scenes.  187 

live  till  morning;  when  we  returned  home  with 
heavy  hearts.  I  could  not  sleep.  I  wanted  to 
go  to  Mrs.  Lincoln,  as  I  pictured  her  wild  with 
grief;  but  then  I  did  not  know  where  to  find  her, 
and  I  must  wait  till  morning.  Never  did  the 
hours  drag  so  slowly.  Every  moment  seemed  an 
age,  and  I  could  do  nothing  but  walk  about  and 
hold  my  arms  in  mental  agony. 

Morning  came  at  last,  and  a  sad  morning  was 
it.  The  Hags  that  floated  so  gayly  yesterday  now 
were  draped  in  black,  and  hung  in  silent  folds  at 
half-mast.  The  President  was  dead,  and  a  nation 
was  mourning  for  him.  Every  house  was  draped 
in  black,  and  every  face  wore  a  solemn  look. 
People  spoke  in  subdued  tones,  and  glided  whisper 
ingly,  wonderingly,  silently  about  the  streets. 

About  eleven  o'clock  on  Saturday  morning  a 
carriage  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  a  messenger 
asked  for  "  Elizabeth  Keckley." 

u  Who  wants  her  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  come  from  Mrs.  Lincoln.     If  you  are  Mrs. 


188  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Keckley,  come  with  me  immediately  to  the 
White  House." 

I  hastily  put  on  my  shawl  and  bonnet,  and  was 
driven  at  a  rapid  rate  to  the  White  House. 
Everything  about  the  building  was  sad  and  sol 
emn.  I  was  quickly  shown  to  Mrs.  Lincoln's 
room,  and  on  entering,  saw  Mrs.  L.  tossing 
uneasily  about  upon  a  bed.  The  room  was  dark 
ened,  and  the  only  person  in  it  besides  the  .widow 
of  the  President  was  Mrs.  Secretary  Welles,  who 
had  spent  the  night  with  her.  Bowing  to  Mrs. 
Welles,  I  went  to  the  bedside. 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  to  me  last  night, 
Elizabeth — I  sent  for  you  ?  "  Mrs.  Lincoln  asked 
in  a  low  whisper. 

"  I  did  try  to  come  to  you,  but  I  could  not 
find  you,"  I  answered,  as  I  laid  my  hand  upon 
her  hot  brow. 

I  afterwards  learned,  that  when  she  had  par 
tially  recovered  from  the  first  shock  of  the  terri 
ble  tragedy  in  the  theatre,  Mrs.  Welles  asked : 


Behind  the  Scenes.  189 

"  Is  there  no  one,  Mrs.  Lincoln,  that  you  desire 
to  have  wiHh  you  in  this  terrible  affliction  ?  " 

"  Yes,  send  for  Elizabeth  Keckley.  I  want 
her  just  as  soon  as  she  can  be  brought  here." 

Three  messengers,  it  appears,  were  successively 
despatched  for  me,  but  all  of  them  mistook  the 
number  and  failed  to  find  me. 

Shortly  after  entering  the  room  on  Saturday 
morning,  Mrs.  Welles  excused  herself,  as  she  said 
she  must  go  to  her  own  family,  and  I  was  left 
alone  with  Mrs.  Lincoln. 

She  was  nearly  exhausted  with  grief,  and  when 
she  became  a  little  quiet;  I  asked  and  received 
permission  to  go  into  the  Guests'  Room,  where  the 
body  of  the  President  lay  in  state.  When  I 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  room,  I  could  not 
help  recalling  the  day  on  which  I  had  seen  little 
Willie  lying  in  his  coffin  where  the  body  of  his 
father  now  lay.  I  remembered  how  the  Presi 
dent  had  wept  over  the  pale  beautiful  face  of  his 
gifted  boy,  and  now  the  President  himself  was 


190  Behind  the  Scenes. 

dead.  The  last  time  I  saw  him  he  spoke  kindly 
to  me,  but  alas  !  the  lips  would  never  move  again. 
The  light  had  faded  from  his  eyes,  and  when  the 
light  went  out  the  soul  went  with  it.  What  a 
noble  soul  was  his — noble  in  all  the  noble  at 
tributes  of  God  !  Never  did  I  enter  the  solemn 
chamber  of  death  with  such  palpitating  heart 
and  trembling  footsteps  as  I  entered  it  that  day. 
No  common  mortal  had  died.  The  Moses  of  my 
people  had  fallen  in  the  hour  of  his  triumph. 
Fame  had  woven  her  choicest  chaplet  for  his 
brow.  Though  the  brow  wTas  cold  and  pale  in 
death,  the  chaplet  should  not  fade,  for  God  had 
studded  it  with  the  glory  of  the  eternal  stars. 

When  I  entered  the  room,  the  members  of  the 
Cabinet  and  many  distinguished  officers  of  the 
army  were  grouped  around  the  body  of  their 
fallen  chief.  They  made  room  for  me,  and,  ap 
proaching  the  body,  I  lifted  the  white  cloth  from 
the  white  face  of  the  man  that  I  had  worshipped 
as  an  idol — looked  upon  as  a  demi-god.  Not- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  191 

withstanding  the  violence  of  the  death  of  the 
President,  there  was  something  beautiful  as  well 
as  grandly  solemn  in  the  expression  of  the  placid 
face.  There  lurked  the  sweetness  and  gentleness 
of  childhood,  and  the  stately  grandeur  of  god 
like  intellect.  I  gazed  long  at  the  face,  and 
turned  away  with  tears  in  my  eyes  and  a  choking 
sensation  in  my  throat.  Ah !  never  was  man 
so  widely  mourned  before.  The  whole  world 
bowed  their  heads  in  grief  when  Abraham  Lin 
coln  died. 

Returning  to  Mrs.  Lincoln's  room,  I  found  her 
in  a  new  paroxysm  of  grief.  Robert  was  bend 
ing  over  his  mother  with  tender  affection,  and 
little  Tad  was  crouched  at  the  foot  of  the  bed 
with  a  world  of  agony  in  his  young  face.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  scene — the  Avails  of  a 
broken  heart,  the  unearthly  shrieks,  the  terrible 
convulsions,  the  wild,  tempestuous  outbursts  of 
grief  from  the  soul.  I  bathed  Mrs.  Lincoln's 
head  with  cold  water,  and  soothed  the  terrible 


192  Behind  the  Scenes. 

tornado  as  best  I  could.  Tad's  grief  at  his 
father's  death  was  as  great  as  the  grief  of  his 
mother,  but  her  terrible  outbursts  awed  the  boy 
into  silence.  Sometimes  he  would  throw  his 
arms  around  her  neck,  and  exclaim,  between  his 
broken  sobs,  "  Don't  cry  so,  Mamma !  don't  cry, 
or  you  will  make  me  cry,  too  !  You  will  break 
my  heart." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  could  not  bear  to  hear  Tad  cry, 
and  when  he  would  plead  to  her  not  to  break  his 
heart,  she  would  calm  herself  with  a  great  effort, 
and  clasp  her  child  in  her  arms. 

Every  room  in  the  White  House  was  dark 
ened,  and  every  one  spoke  in  subdued  tones, 
and  moved  about  with  muffled  tread.  The 
very  atmosphere  breathed  of  the  great  sorrow 
which  weighed  heavily  upon  each  heart.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  never  left  her  room,  and  while  the  body 
of  her  husband  was  being  borne  in  solemn  state 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  broad  prairies  of  the 
West,  she  was  weeping  with  her  fatherless  chil- 


tJie  Scenes.  193 

dren  in  her  private  chamber.  She  denied  ad 
mittance  to  almost  every  one,  and  I  was  her  only 
companion,  except  her  children,  in  the  days  of 
her  great  sorrow. 

There  were  many  surmises  as  to  who  was  im 
plicated  with  J.  Wilkes  Booth  in  the  assassina 
tion  of  the  President.  A  new  messenger  had 
accompanied  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  the  theatre 
on  that  terrible  Friday  night.  It  was  the  duty 
of  this  messenger  to  stand  at  the  door  of  the  box 
during  the  performance,  and  thus  guard  the  in 
mates  from  all  intrusion.  It  appears  that  the  mes 
senger  was  carried  away  by  the  play,  and  so  neg 
lected  his  duty  that  Booth  gained  easy  admission 
to  the  box.  Mrs.  Lincoln  firmly  believed  that  this 
messenger  was  implicated  in  the  assassination  plot. 

One  night  I  was  lying  on  a  lounge  near  the 
bed  occupied  by  Mrs.  Lincoln.  One  of  the  ser 
vants  entering  the  room,  Mrs.  L.  asked : 

"  Who  is  on  watch  to-night  ?  " 

"  The  new  messenger,"  was  the  reply. 


194  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  What !  the  man  who  attended  us  to  the 
theatre  on  the  night  my  dear,  good  husband  was 
murdered !  He,  I  believe,  is  one  of  the  murderers. 
Tell  him  to  come  in  to  me." 

The  messenger  had  overheard  Mrs.  Lincoln's 
words  through  the  half-open  door,  and  when  he 
came  in  he  was  trembling  violently. 

She  turned  to  him  fiercely :  "So  you  are  on 
guard  to-night— on  guard  in  the  White  House 
after  helping  to  murder  the  President !  " 

"  Pardon  me,  but  I  did  not-  help  to  murder 
the  President.  I  could  never  stoop  to  murder — 
much  less  to  the  murder  of  so  good  and  great  a 
man  as  the  President." 

"  But  it  appears  that  you  did  stoop  to  murder." 

"  No,  no  !  don't  say  that,"  he  broke  in.  "  God 
knows  that  I  am  innocent." 

"  I  don't  believe  you.  Why  were  you  not  at 
the  door  to  keep  the  assassin  out  when  he  rushed 
into  the  box  ? " 

"  I  did  wrong,  I  admit,  and  I  have  bitterly  re- 


Behind  tJie  Scenes.  195 

pented  it,  but  I  did  not  help  to  kill  the  President. 
I  did  not  believe  that  any  one  would  try  to  kill 
so  good  a  man  in  such  a  public  place,  and  the 
belief  made  me  careless.  I  was  attracted  by  the 
play,  and  did  not  see  the  assassin  enter  the  box." 

"  But  you  should  have  seen  him.  You  had  no 
business  to  be  careless.  I  shall  always  believe 
that  you  are  guilty.  Hush !  I  shan't  hear 
another  word,"  she  exclaimed,  as  the  messenger 
essayed  to  reply.  "  Go  now  and  keep  your 
watch,"  she  added,  with  an  imperious  wave  of 
her  hand.  With  mechanical  step  and  white  face 
the  messenger  left  the  room,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
fell  back  on  her  pillow,  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands,  and  commenced  sobbing. 

Robert  was  very  tender  to  his  mother  in  the 
days  of  her  sorrow. 

He  suffered  deeply,  as  his  haggard  face  indi 
cated,  but  he  was  ever  manly  and  collected  when 
in  the  presence  of  his  mother.  Mrs.  Lincoln  was 
extremely  nervous,  and  she  refused  to  have  any- 


190  Behind  the  Scenes. 

body  about  her  but  myself.  Many  ladies  called, 
but  she  received  none  of  them.  Had  she  been 
less  secluded  in  her  grief,  perhaps  she  would  have 
had  many  warmer  friends  to-day  than  she  has. 
13utfar  be  it  from  me  to  harshly  judge  the  sorrow 
of  any  one.  Could  the  ladies  who  called  to  con 
dole  with  Mrs.  Lincoln,  after  the  death  of  her 
husband,  and  who  were  denied  admittance  to  her 
chamber,  have  seen  how  completely  prostrated 
she  was  with  grief,  they  would  have  learned  to 
speak  more  kindly  of  her.  Often  at  night,  when 
Tad  would  hear  her  sobbing,  he  would  get  up, 
and  come  to  her  bed  in  his  white  sleeping- 
clothes  :  "  Don't  cry,  Mamma;  I  cannot  sleep  if 
you  cry !  Papa  was  good,  and  he  has  gone  to 
heaven.  He  is  happy  there.  He  is  with  God 
and  brother  "Willie.  Don't  cry,  Mamma,  or  I  will 
cry  too." 

The  closing  appeal  always  proved  the  most  ef 
fectual,  as  Mrs.  Lincoln  could  not  bear  to  hear 
her  child  cry. 


Behind  tlie  Scenes.  197 

Tad  had  been  petted  by  his  father,  but  petting 
could  not  spoil  such  a  manly  nature  as  his.  He 
seemed  to  realize  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  Pre 
sident — to  realize  it  in  its  loftiest  and  noblest 
sense.  One  morning,  while  being  dressed,  he 
looked  up  at  his  nurse,  and  said  :  "  Pa  is  dead. 
I  can  hardly  believe  that  I  shall  never  see  him 
again.  I  must  learn  to  take  care  of  myself 
now."  He  looked  thoughtful  a  moment,  thea 
added,  "Yes,  Pa  is  dead,  and  I  am  only  Tad 
Lincoln  now,  little  Tad,  like  other  little  boys.  I 
am  not  a  President's  son  now.  I  won't  have 
many  presents  any  more.  Well,  I  will  try  and 
be  a  good  boy,  and  will  hope  to  go  some  day  to 

Pa  and  brother  Willie,  in  heaven."     He  was  a 

0     v 
brave,  manly  child,  and  knew  that  influence  had 

passed  out  of  their  hands  with  the  death  of  his 
father,  and  that  his  position  in  life  was  altered. 
He  seemed  to  feel  that  people  pettdd  him,  and 
gave  him  presents,  because  they  wanted  to  please 
the  President  of  the  United  States.  '  From  that 


198  Behind  the  Scenes. 

period  forward  he  became  more  independent,  and 
in  a  short  time  learned  to  dispense  with  the  ser 
vices  of  a  nurse.  While  in  Chicago,  I  saw  him 
get  out  his  clothes  one  Sunday  morning  and  dress 
himself,  and  the  change  was  such  a  great  one  to  me 
— for  while  in  the  White  House,  servants  obeyed 
his  every  nod  and  bid — that  I  could  scarcely  re 
frain  from  shedding  tears.  Had  his  father  lived, 
I  knew  it  would  have  been  different  with  his  fa 
vorite  boy.  Tad  roomed  with  Robert,  and  he 
always  took  pride  in  pleasing  his  brother. 

After  the  Committee  had  started  West  with 
the  body  of  the  President,  there  was  quite  a 
breeze  of  excitement  for  a  few  days  as  to  where 
the  remains  should  be  interred.  Secretary  Stan- 
ton  and  others  held  frequent  conferences  with 
Robert,  Mr.  Todd,  Mrs.  Lincoln's  cousin,  and 
Dr.  Henry,  an  old  schoolmate  and  friend  of  Mr. 
Lincoln.  The  city  authorities  of  Springfield  had 
purchased  a  beautiful  plat  of  ground  in  a  pros 
perous  portion  of  the  city,  and  work  was  rapidly 


Behind  the  Scenes.  199 

progressing  on  the  tomb,  when  Mrs.  Lincoln 
made  strenuous  objection  to  the  location.  She 
declared  that  she  would  stop  the  body  in  Chicago 
before  it  should  be  laid  to  rest  in  the  lot  pur 
chased  for  the  purpose  by  the  City  of  Springfield. 
She  gave  as  a  reason,  that  it  was  her  desire  to  be 
laid  by  the  side  of  her  husband  when  she  died, 
and  that  such  would  be  out  of  the  question  in  a 
public  place  of  the  kind.  As  is  well  known,  the 
difficulty  was  finally  settled  by  placing  the  re 
mains  of  the  President  in  the  family  vault  at 
Oak  Ridge,  a  charming  spot  for  the  home  of  the 
dead. 

After  the  President's  funeral  Mrs.  Lincoln 
rallied,  and  began  to  make  preparations  to  leave 
the  White  House.  One  day  she  suddenly  ex 
claimed  :  "  God,  Elizabeth,  what  a  change  !  Did 
ever  woman  have  to  suffer  so  much  and  expe 
rience  so  great  a  change  ?  I  had  an  ambition  to 
be  Mrs.  President ;  that  ambition  has  been  grati 
fied,  and  now  I  must  step  down  from  the  pedes- 


200  Behind  the  Scenes. 

tal.  My  poor  husband  !  had  he  never  been  Pre 
sident,  he  might  be  living  to-day.  Alas  !  all  is 
over  with  me !" 

Folding  her  arras  for  a  few  moments,  she  rock 
ed  back  and  forth,  then  commenced  again,  more 
vehemently  than  ever:  "My  God,  Elizabeth,  I 
can  never  go  back  to  Springfield!  no,  never, 
until  I  go  in  my  shroud  to  be  laid  by  my  dear 
husband's  side,  and  may  Heaven  speed  that  day  ! 
I  should  like  to  live  for  my  sons,  but  life  is  so  full 
of  misery  that  I  would  rather  die."  And  then 
she  would  go  off  into  a  fit  of  hysterics. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


MRS.  LINCOLN  LEAVES  THE  WHITE  HOUSE. 


I  OR  five  weeks  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  con 
fined  to  her  room.     Packing  afford 
ed   quite   a  relief,  as  it  so   closely 
occupied  us  that  we  had  not  much 
time  for  lamentation. 

Letters  of  condolence  were  received  from  all 
parts  of  the  country,  and  even  from  foreign  po 
tentates,  but  Mr.  Andrew  Johnson,  the  successor 
of  Mr.  Lincoln,  never  called  on  the  widow,  or 
even  so  much  as  wrote  a  line  expressing  sympathy 
for  her  grief  and  the  loss  of  her  husband.  Rob 
ert  called  on  him  one  clay  to  tell  him  that  his 
mother  would  turn  the  White  House  over  to  him 


202  Behind  the  Scenes. 

in  a  few  days,  and  lie  never  even  so  much  as 
inquired  after  their  welfare.  Mrs.  Lincoln  firmly 
believes  that  Mr.  Johnson  was  concerned  in  the 
assassination  plot. 

In  packing,  Mrs.  Lincoln  gave  away  every 
thing  intimately  connected  with  the  President,  as 
she  said  that  she  could  not  bear  to  be  reminded  of 
the  past.  The  articles  were  given  to  those  who 
were  regarded  as  the  warmest  of  Mr.  Lincoln's 
admirers.  All  of  the  presents  passed  through  my 
hands.  The  dress  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  wore  on  the 
night  of  the  assassination  was  given  to  Mrs. 
Slade,  the  wife  of  an  old  and  faithful  messenger. 
The  cloak,  stained  with  the  President's  blood, 
was  given  to  me,  as  also  was  the  bonnet  worn  on 
the  same  memorable  nicvht.  Afterwards  I  re- 

O 

ceived  the  comb  and  brush  that  Mr.  Lincoln  used 
during  his  residence  at  the  White  House.  With 
this  same  comb  and  brush  I  had  often  combed 
his  head.  When  almost  ready  to  go  down  to  a 
reception,  he  would  turn  to  me  with  a  quizzical 


Behind  the  Scenes.  203 

look :  "  Well,  Madam  Elizabeth,  will  you  brush 
my  bristles  down  to-night  ? " 

"Yes,  Mr.  Lincoln." 

Then  he  would  take  his  seat  in  an  easy-chair, 
and  sit  quietly  while  I  arranged  his  hair.  As  may 
well  be  imagined,  I  was  only  too  glad  to  accept 
this  comb  and  brush  from  the  hands  of  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  The  cloak,  bonnet,  comb,  and  brush, 
the  glove  worn  at  the  first  reception  after  the 
second  inaugural,  and  Mr.  Lincoln's  over-shoes, 
also  given  to  me,  I  have  since  donated  for  the 
benefit  of  Wilberforce  University,  a  colored  col 
lege  near  Xenia,  .Ohio,  destroyed  by  fire  on  the 
night  that  the  President  was  murdered. 

There  was  much  surmise,  when  Mrs.  Lincoln 
left  the  White  House,  what  her  fifty  or  sixty 
boxes,  not  to  count  her  score  of  trunks,  could 
contain.  Had  the  government  not  been  so  liberal 
in  furnishing  the  boxes,  it  is  possible' that  there 
would  have  been  less  demand  for  so  much  trans 
portation.  The  boxes  were  loosely  packed,  and 


204    f  .Behind  the  Scenes. 

many  of  tliem  with  articles  not  worth  carrying 
away.  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  a  passion  for  hoarding 
old  things,  believing,  with  Toodles,  that  they  were 
u  handy  to  have  about  the  house." 

The  bonnets  that  she  brought  with  her  from 
Springfield,  in  addition  to  every  one  purchased 
during  her  residence  in  Washington,  were  packed 
in  the  boxes,  and  transported  to  Chicago.  She 
remarked  that  she  might  find  use  for  the  material 
some  day,  and  it  was  prudent  to  look  to  the 

future.     I  am   sorry  to  say  that  Mrs.  Lincoln's 

\ 

foresight  in  regard  to  the  future  was  only  con 
fined  to  cast-off  clothing,  as  she  owed,  at  the  time 
of  the  President's  death,  different  store  bills 
amounting  to  seventy  thousand  dollars.  Mr. 
Lincoln  knew  nothing  of  these  bills,  and  the  only 
happy  feature  of  his  assassination  was  that  he 
died  in  ignorance  of  them.  Had  he  known 

S 

to  what  extent  his  wrife  was  involved,  the  fact 
would  have  embittered  the  only  pleasant  mo 
ments  of  his  life.  I  disclose  this  secret  in  regard 


Behind  the  Scenes.  205 

to  Mrs.  Lincoln's  debts,  in  order  to  explain  why 
she  should  subsequently  have  labored  under 
pecuniary  embarrassment.  The  children,  as  well 
as  herself,  had  received  a  vast  number  of  presents 
during  Mr.  Lincoln's  administration,  and  these 
presents  constituted  a  large  item  in  the  contents 
of  the  boxes.  The  only  article  of  furniture,  so 
far  as  I  know,  taken  away  from  the  White  House 
by  Mrs.  Lincoln,  was  a  little  dressing-stand  used 
by  the  President.  I  recollect  hearing  him  say 
one  day : 

"  Mother,  this  little  stand  is  so  handy,  and  suits 
me  so  well,  that  I  do  not  know  how  I  shall  get 
along  without  it  when  we  move  away  from 
here."  He  was  standing  before  a  mirror,  brush- 
ing  his  hair,  when  he  made  the  remark. 

"Well,  father,"  Mrs.  Lincoln  replied,  "if  you 
like  the  stand  so  well,  we  will  take  it  with  us 
when  we  go  away." 

"Not  for  the  world,"  he  exclaimed;  but  she 
interrupted  him : 


206  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"I  should  like  to  know  what  difference  it 
makes  if  we  put  a  better  one  in  its  place." 

"  That  alters  the  question.  If  you  will  put  a 
stand  in  its  place  worth  twice  as  much  as  this 
one,  and  the  Commissioner  consents,  then  I  have 
no  objection." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  remembered  these  words,  and, 
with  the  consent  of  the  Commissioner,  took  the 
stand  to  Chicago  with  her  for  the  benefit  of  little 
Tad.  Another  stand,  I  must  not  forget  to  add, 
was  put  in  its  place. 

It  is  charged  that  a  great  deal  of  furniture  was 
lost  from  the  White  House  during  Mr.  Lincoln's 
occupation  of  it.  Very  true,  and  it  can  be 
accounted  for  in  this  way :  In  some  respects,  to 
put  the  case  very  plainly,  Mrs.  Lincoln  was 
"penny  wise  and  pound  foolish."  When  she 
moved  into  the  White  House,  she  discharged  the 
Steward,  whose  business  it  was  to  look  after  the 
affairs  of  the  household.  When  the  Steward  was 
dismissed,  there  was  no  one  to  superintend  affairs, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  207 

and  the  servants  carried  away  many  pieces  of 
furniture.  In  this  manner  the  furniture  rap 
idly  disappeared. 

Robert  was  frequently  in  the  room  where  the 
boxes  were  being  packed,  and  he  tried  without 
avail  to  influence  his  mother  to  set  fire  to  her 
vast  stores  of  old  goods.  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do  with  that  old  dress,  mother  ?  "  he  would  ask. 

"Never  mind,  Robert,  I  will  find  use  for  it. 
You  do  not  understand  this  business." 

"  And  what  is  more,  I  hope  I  never  may  un 
derstand  it.  I  wish  to  heaven  the  car  would 
take  fire  in  which  you  place  these  boxes  for  trans 
portation  to  Chicago,  and  burn  all  of  your  old 
plunder  up;"  and  then,  with  an  impatient  ges 
ture,  he  would  turn  on  his  heel  and  leave  the 
room. 

"  Robert  is  so  impetuous,"  his  mother  would 
say  to  me,  after  the  closing  of  the  door.  "He 
never  thinks  about  the  future.  Well,  I  hope 
that  he  will  get  over  his  boyish  notions  in  time." 


208  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Many  of  the  articles  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  took 
away  from  the  White  House  were  given,  after 
her  arrival  in  Chicago,  for  the  benefit  of  charity 
fairs. 

At  last  everything  was  packed,  and  the  day 
for  departure  for  the  West  came.  I  can  never 
forget  that  day ;  it  was  so  unlike  the  day  when 
the  body  of  the  President  was  borne  from  the 
hall  in  grand  and  solemn  state.  Then  thousands 
gathered  to  bow  the  head  in  reverence  as  the 
plumed  hearse  drove  down  the  line.  There  was 
all  the  pomp  of  military  display — drooping  flags, 
battalions  with  reversed  arms,  and  bands  playing 
dirge-like  airs.  Now,  the  wife  of  the  President 
was  leaving  the  White  House,  and  there  was 
scarcely  a  friend  to  tell  her  good-by.  She 
passed  down  the  public  stairway,  entered  her 
carriage,  and  quietly  drove  to  the  depot  where 
we  took  the  cars.  The  silence  was  almost  pain 
ful. 

It   had  been   arranged   that   I  should  go   to 


Behind  the  Scenes.  209 

Chicago.  When  Mrs.  Lincoln  first  suggested 
her  plan,  I  strongly  objected ;  but  I  had  been 
with  her  so  long,  that  she  had  acquired  great 
power  over  me. 

"  I  cannot  go  West  with  you,  Mrs.  Lincoln,"  I 
said,  when  the  idea  was  first  advanced. 

"  But  you  must  go  to  Chicago  with  me,  Eliza 
beth  ;  I  cannot  do  without  you." 

"You  forget  my  business,  Mrs.  Lincoln.  I 
cannot  leave  it.  Just  now  I  have  the  spring 
trousseau  to  make  for  Mrs.  Douglas,  and  I  have 
promised  to  have  it  done  in  less  than  a  week." 

"Never  mind.  Mrs.  Douglas  can  get  some 
one  else  to  make  her  trousseau.  You  may  find  it 
to  your  interest  to  go.  I  am  very  poor  now,  but 
if  Congress  makes  an  appropriation  for  my 
benefit,  you  shall  be  well  rewarded." 

"  It  is  not  the  reward,  but — "  I  commenced,  by 
way  of  reply,  but  she  stopped  me : 

"  Now  don't  say  another  word  about  it,  if  you 
do  not  wish  to  distress  me.  I  have  determined 


210  Behind  the  Scenes. 

that  you  shall  go  to  Chicago  with  me,  and  you 
must  go." 

When  Mrs.  Douglas  learned  that  Mrs.  Lincoln 
wished  me  to  accompany  her  West,  she  sent  me 
word : 

"  Never  mind  me.  Do  all  you  can  for  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  My  heart's  sympathy  is  with  her." 

Finding  that  no  excuse  would  be  accepted,  I 
made  preparations  to  go  to  Chicago  with  Mrs.  L. 

The  green  car  had  specially  been  chartered  for 
us,  and  in  this  we  were  conveyed  to  the  West. 
Dr.  Henry  accompanied  us,  and  lie  was  remark 
ably  attentive  and  kind.  The  first  night  out, 
Mrs.  Lincoln  had  a  severe  headache ;  and  while  I 
was  bathing  her  temples,  she  said  to  me : 

"  Lizabeth,  you  are  my  best  and  kindest  friend, 
and  I  love  you  as  my  best  friend.  I  wish  it  were 
in  my  powder  to  make  you  comfortable  for  the 
balance  of  your  days.  If  Congress  provides  for 
me,  depend  upon  it,  I  will  provide  for  you." 

The  trip  was  devoid  of  interest.     We  arrived 


Behind  the  Scenes.  211 

in  Chicago  without  accident  or  delay,  and  apart 
ments  were  secured  for  us  at  the  Tremont  House, 
where  we  remained  one  week.  At  the  expiration 
of  this  time  Mrs.  Lincoln  decided  that  living  at 
the  hotel  was  attended  with  too  much  expense, 
so  it"  was  arranged  that  we  should  go  to  the 
country.  Rooms  were  selected  at  Hyde  Park,  a 
summer  resort. 

Robert  and  Tad  accompanied  their  mother  to 
Hyde  Park.  We  arrived  about  3  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  of  Saturday.  The  place  had  just  been 
opened  the  summef  before,  and  there  was  a  new 
ness  about  everything.  The  accommodations 
were  not  first-class,  the  rooms  being  small  and 
plainly  furnished.  It  was  a  lively  day  for  us  all. 
Robert  occupied  himself  unpacking  his  books,  and 
arranging  them  on  the  shelves  in  the  corner  of 
his  small  but  neat  room.  I  assisted  him,  he  talk 
ing  pleasantly  all  the  while.  When  we  were 
through,  he  folded  his  arms,  stood  off  a  little  dis 
tance  from  the  mantel,  with  -an  abstracted  look 


212  Behind  the  Scenes. 

as  if  lie  were  thinking  of  the  great  change  in  his 
fortunes — contrasting  the  present  with  the  past. 
Turning  to  me,  he  asked :  "  "Well,  Mrs.  Keckley, 
how  do  you  like  our  new  quarters  ?  " 

"  This  is  a  delightful  place,  and  I  think  you 
will  pass  your  time  pleasantly,"  I  answered. 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  quizzical  smile,  then 
remarked :  "  You  call  it  a  delightful  place ! 
Well,  perhaps  it  is.  Since  you  do  not  have 
to  stay  here,  you  can  safely  say  as  much  about 
the>charming  situation  as  you  please.  I  presume 
that  I  must  put  up  with  it,  3s  mother's  pleasure 
must  be  consulted  before  my  own.  But  candidly, 
I  would  almost  as  soon  be  dead  as  be  compelled 
to  remain  three  months  in  this  dreary  house." 

He  seemed  to  feel  what  he  said,  and  going  to 
the  window,  he  looked  out  upon  the  view  with 
moody  countenance.  I  passed  into  Mrs.  Lin 
coln's  room,  and  found  her  lying  upon  the  bed, 
sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"What  a  dreary  place,  Lizzie!  and  to  think 


Behind  the  Scenes.  213 

that  I  should  be  compelled  to  live  here,  because  I 
have  not  the  means  to  live  elsewhere.  Ah !  what 
a  sad  change  has  come  to  us  all."  I  had  listened 
to  her  sobbing  for  eight  weeks,  therefore  I  was 
never  surprised  to  find  her  in  tears.  Tad  was 
the  only  cheerful  one  of  the  party.  He  was  a 
child  of  sunshine,  and  nothing  seemed  to  dampen 
the  ardor  of  his  spirits. 

Sunday  was  a  very  quiet  day.  I  looked  out  of 
my  window  in  the  morning,  upon  the  beautiful 
lake  that  formed  one  of  the  most  delightful  views 
from  the  house.  The  wind  was  just  strong 
enough  to  ripple  the  broad  bosom  of  the  water, 
and  each  ripple  caught  a  jewel  from  the  sunshine, 
and  threw  it  sparkling  up  towards  the  sky.  Here 
and  there  a  sail-boat  silently  glided  into  view,  or 
sank  below  the  faint  blue  line  that  marked  the 
horizon — glided  and  melted  away  like  the  spec 
tral  shadows  that  sometimes  haunt  the  white 
snow-fields  in  the  cold,  tranquil  light  of  a  win 
ter's  moon.  As  I  stood  by  my  window  that 


214:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

morning,  looking  out  upon  the  lake,  my  thoughts 
were  etherealized — the  reflected  sunbeams  sug 
gested  visions  of  crowns  studded  with  the  jewels  of 
eternal  life,  and  I  wondered  how  any  one  could  call 
Hyde  Park  a  dreary  place.  Uiad  seen  so  much 
trouble  in  my  life,  that  I  was  willing  to  fold  my 
arms  and  sink  into  a  passive  slumber — slumber 
anywhere,  so  the  great  longing  of  the  soul  was 
gratified — rest. 

Robert  spent  the  day  in  his  room  with  his 
books,  while  I  remained  in  Mrs.  Lincoln's  room, 
talking  with  her,  contrasting  the  present  with  the 
past,  and  drawing  plans  for  the  future.  She  held 
no  communication,  by  letter  or  otherwise,  with 
any  of  her  relatives  or  old  friends,  saying  that  she 
wished  to  lead  a  secluded  life  for  the  summer. 
Old  faces,  she  claimed,  would  only  bring  back 
memories  of  scenes  that  she  desired  to  forget ; 
and  new  faces,  she  felt  assured,  could  not  sym 
pathize  with  her  distress,  or  add  to  the'  comforts 
of  her  situation. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  215 

On  Monday  morning,  Robert  was  getting 
ready  to  ride  into  Chicago,  as  business  called  him 
to  the  city. 

"  "Where  you  goin',  brother  Bob  ?  "•  —Tad  gen 
erally  called  Robert,  brother  Bob. 

"  Only  into  town !  "  was  the  brief  reply. 

"  Mayn't  I  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  Ask  mother.     I  think  that  she  will  say  no." 

Just  then  Mrs.  Lincoln  came  in,  and  Tad  ran 
to  her,  with  the  eager  question  : 

"  Oh,  Ma !  can't  I  go  to  town  with  brother 
Bob  ?  I  want  to  go  so  badly." 

"  Go  to  town !  No  ;  you  must  stay  and  keep 
me  company.  Besides,  I  have  determined  that 
you  shall  get  a  lesson  every  day,  and  I  am  going 
to  commence  to-day  with  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  get  a  lesson — I  won't  get  a 
lesson,"  broke  in  the  impetuous  boy.  "  I  don't 
want  to  learn  my  book  ;  I  want  to  go  to  town  !  " 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  grow  up  to  be  a  great 
dunce.  Hush,  Tad ;  you  shall  not  go  to  town 


216  Behind  the  Scenes. 

until  you  have  said  a  lesson;"  and  the  mothei 
looked  resolute. 

"  May  I  go  after  I  learn  my  book  ? "  was  the 
next  question. 

"  Yes  ;  if  Robert  will  wait  for  you." 

"  Oh,  Bob  will  wait ;  won't  you,  Bob  ?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot  wait ;  but  the  landlord  is  going 
in  this  afternoon,  and  you  can  go  with  him.  You 
must  do  as  mother  tells  you,  Tad.  You  are  get 
ting  to  be  a  big  boy  now,  and  must  start  to 
school  next  fall ;  and  you  would  not  like  to  go  to 
school  without  knowing  how  to  read." 

"  Where's  my  book,  Ma  ?  Get  my  book  quick. 
I  will  say  my  lesson,"  and  he  jumped  about  the 
room,  boisterously,  boy-like. 

"  Be  quiet,  Tad.  Here  is  your  book,  and  we 
will  now  begin  the  first  lesson,"  said  his  mother, 
as  she  seated  herself  in  an  easy-chair. 

Tad  had  always  been  much  humored  by  his 
parents,  especially  by  his  father.  Pie  suffered 
from  a  slight  impediment  in  his  speech,  and  had 


Behind  the  Scenes.  217 

never  been  made  to  go  to  school ;  consequently 
his  book  knowledge  was  very  limited.  I  knew 
that  his  education  had  been  neglected,  but  had 
no  idea  he  was  so  deficient  as  the  first  lesson  at 
Hyde  Park  proved  him  to  be. 

Drawing  a  low  chair  to  his  mother's  side,  he 
opened  his  book,  and  began  to  slowly  spell  the 
first  word,  "A-p-e.?> 

"Well,  what  does  A-p-e  spell?" 

"Monkey,"  was  the  instant  rejoinder.  The 
word  was  illustrated  by  a  small  wood-cut  of  an 
ape,  which  looked  to  Tad's  eyes  very  much  like 
a  monkey ;  and  his  pronunciation  was  guided  by 
the  picture,  and  not  by  the  sounds  of , the  different 
letters. 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  his  mother.  "A-p-e 
does  not  spell  monkey." 

"Does  spell  monkey!  Isn't  that  a  monkey?" 
and  Tad  pointed  triumphantly  to  the  picture. 

"No,  it  is  not  a  monkey." 

"  Not  a  monkey !  what  is  it,  then  ? " 


218  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"An  ape." 

"  An  ape !  'taint  an  ape.  Don't  I  know  a 
monkey  when  I  see  it  ?  " 

"  No,  if  you  say  that  is  a  monkey." 

"  I  do  know  a  monkey.  I've  seen  lots  of  them 
in  the  street  with  the  organs.  I  know  a  monkey 
better  than  you  do,  'cause  I  always  go  out  into 
the  street  to  see  them  when 'they  come  by,  and 
you  don't." 

"  But,  Tad,  listen  to  me.  An  ape  is  a  species 
of  the  monkey.  It  looks  like  a  monkey,  but  it  is 
not  a  monkey." 

"It  shouldn't  look  like  a  monkey,  then.  Here, 
Yib" — he  always  called  me  Yib — "isn't  this  a 
monkey,  and  don't  A-p-e  spell  monkey  ?  Ma 
don't  know  anything  about  it;"  and  he  thrust 
his  book  into  my  face  in  an  earnest,  excited 
manner. 

I  could  not  longer  restrain  myself,  and  burst 
out  laughing.  Tad  looked  very  much  offended, 
and  I  hastened  to  say :  "  I  beg  your  pardon, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  219 

Master  Tad;  I  hope  that  you  will  excuse  my 
want  of  politeness." 

He  bowed  his  taead  in  a  patronizing  way,  and 
returned  to  the  original  question:  "Isn't  this 
a  monkey  ?  Don't  A-p-e  spell  monkey  ? " 

"  No,  Tad ;  your  mother  is  right.  A-p-e  spells 
ape." 

"  You  don't  know  as  much  as  Ma.  Both  of 
you  don't  know  anything ;"  and  Master  Tad's 
eyes  flashed  with  indignation. 

Robert  entered  the  room,  and  the  question  was 
referred  to  him.  After  many  explanations,  he 
succeeded  in  convincing  Tad  that  A-p-e  does 
not  spell  monkey,  and  the  balance  of  the  lesson 
was  got  over  with  less  difficulty. 

"Whenever  I  think  of  this  incident  I  am  tempt 
ed  to  laugh ;  and  then  it  occurs  to  me  that  had 
Tad  been  a  negro  boy,  not  the  son  of  a  Presi 
dent,  and  so  difficult  to  instruct,  he  would  have 
been  called  thick-skulled,  and  would  have  been 
held  up  as  an  example  of  the  inferiority  of  race. 


220  Behind  the  Scenes. 

I  know  many  full  negro  boys,  able  to  read  and 
write,  who  are  not  older  than  Tad  Lincoln  was 
when  he  persisted  that  A-p-e  spelt  monkey.  Bo 
not  imagine  that  I  desire  to  reflect  upon  the 
intellect  of  little  Tad.  'Not  at  all;  he  is  a 
bright  boy,  a  son  that  will  do  honor  to  the 
genius  and  greatness  of  his  father ;  I  only  mean 
to  say  that  some  incidents  are  about  as  damaging 
to  one  side  of  the  question  as  to  the  other.  If  a 
colored  boy  appears  dull,  so  does  a  white  boy 
sometimes ;  and  if  a  whole  race  is  judged  by 
a  single  example  of  apparent  dulness,  another 
race  should  be  judged  by  a  similar  example. 

I  returned  to  Washington,  with  Mrs.  Lincoln's 
best  wishes  for  my  success  in  business.  The 
journey  was  devoid  of  incident.  After  resting 
a  few  days,  I  called  at  the  White  House,  and 
transacted  some  business  for  Mrs.  Lincoln.  I  had 
no  desire  to  enter  the  house,  for  everything  about 
it  bitterly  reminded  me  of  the  past ;  and  when 
I  came  out  of  the  door,  I  hoped  that  I  had  crossed 


Behind  the  Scenes.  221 

the  threshold  for  the  last  time.  I  was  asked  by 
some  of  my  friends  if  I  had  sent  my  business  cards 
to  Mr.  Johnson's  family,  and  my  answer  was  that 
1  had  not,  as  I  had  no  desire  to  work  for  the 
President's  family.  Mr.  Johnson  was  no  friend  to 
Mr.  Lincoln,  and  he  had  failed  to  treat  Mrs.  Lin 
coln,  in  the  hour  of  her  greatest  sorrow,  with 
even  common  courtesy. 

Having  promised  to  make  a  spring  trousseau 
for  Mrs.  Senator  Douglas  as  soon  as  I  should 
return  from  Chicago,  I  called  on  her  to  meet  the 
engagement.  She  appeared  pleased  to  see  me, 
and  in  greeting  me,  asked,  with  evident  surprise  : 

"  Why,  Keckley  " — she  always  called  me  Keck: 
ley — "  is  this  you  ?  I  did  not  know  you  were 
coming  back.  It  was  reported  that  you  designed 
remaining  with  Mrs.  Lincoln  all  summer." 

"  Mrs.  Lincoln  would  have  been  glad  to  have 
kept  me  with  her  had  she  been  able." 

"  Able  !  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? " 

"  Simply  this :  Already  she  is  laboring  under  pe- 


222  Behind  the  Scenes. 

cuniary  embarrassment,  and  was  only  able  to  pay 
my  expenses,  and  allow  me  nothing  for  my  time." 

"  You  surprise  me.  I  thought  she  was  left  in 
good  circumstances." 

"  So  many  think,  it  appears.  Mrs.  Lincoln,  I 
assure  you,  is  now  practising  the  closest  economy. 
I  must  do  something  for  myself,  Mrs.  Douglas,  so  I 
have  come  back  to  Washington  to  open  my  shop." 

The  next  day  I  collected  my  assistants,  and 
my  business  went  on  as  usual.  Orders  came  in 
more  rapidly  than  I  could  fill  them.  One  day,  in 
the  middle  of  the  month  of  June,  the  girl  who 
was  attending  the  door  came  into  the  cutting- 
room,  where  I  was  hard  at  work  : 

"Mrs.  Keckley,  there  is  a  lady  below,  who 
wants  to  see  you." 

"Who  is  she?" 

"  I  don't  know.     I  did  not  learn  her  name." 

"  Is  her  face  familiar  ?  Does  she  look  like  a 
regular  customer  ? " 

"  JSTo,  she  is  a  stranger.     I  don't  think  she  was 


Behind  the  Scenes.  223 

ever  here  before.  She  came  in  an  open  carriage, 
with  a  black  woman  for  an  attendant." 

"  It  may  be  the  wife  of  one  of  Johnson's  new 
secretaries.  Do  go  down,  Mrs.  Keckley,"  exclaim 
ed  my  work-girls  in  a  chorus.  I  went  below,  and 
on  entering  the  parlor,  a  plainly  dressed  lady 
rose  to  her  feet,  and  asked  : 

"  Is  this  the  dressmaker  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  dressmaker." 

"  Mrs.  Keckley  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Mrs.  Lincoln's  former  dressmaker,  were  you 
not  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  worked  for  Mrs.  Lincoln." 

"  Are  you  very  busy  now  ? " 

"  Yery,  indeed." 

"  Can  you  do  anything  for  me  ? " 

"  That  depends  upon  what  is  to  be  done,  and 
when  it  is  to  be  done." 

"  Well,  say  one  dress  now,  and  several  others 
a  few  weeks  later." 


224:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  I  can  make  one  dress  for  you  now,  but  no 
more.  I  cannot  finish  the  one  for  you  in  less 
than  three  weeks." 

"  That  will  answer.  I  am  Mrs.  Patterson,  the 
daughter  of  President  Johnson.  I  expect  my 
sister,  Mrs.  Stover,  here  in  three  weeks,  and  the 
dress  is  for  her.  We  are  both  the  same  size,  and 
you  can  fit  the  dress  to  me." 

The  terms  were  satisfactorily  arranged,  and 
after  measuring  Mrs.  Patterson,  she  bade  me  good 
morning,  entered  her  carriage,  and  drove  away. 

When  I  went  up-stairs  into  the  work-room,  the 
girls  were  anxious  to  learn  who  my  visitor  was. 

"  It  was  Mrs.  Patterson,  the  daughter  of  Presi 
dent  Johnson,"  I  answered,  in  response  to  several 
questions. 

"What !  the  daughter  of  our  good  Moses.  Are 
you  going. to  work  for  her?  " 

"  I  have  taken  her  order." 

"  I  fear  that  Johnson  will  prove  a  poor  Moses, 
and  I  would  not  work  for  any  of  the  family," 


Behind  the  Scenes.  225 

remarked  one  of  the  girls.  Kone  of  them  ap 
peared  to  like  Mr.  Lincoln's  successor. 

I  finished  the  dress  for  Mrs.  Patterson,  and  it 
gave  satisfaction.  I  afterwards  learned  that  both 
Mrs.  Patterson  and  Mrs.  Stover  were  kind- 
hearted,  plain,  unassuming  women,  making  no 
pretensions  to  elegance.  One  day  when  I  called 
at  the  White  House,  in  relation  to  some  work 
that  I  was  doing  for  them,  I  found  Mrs.  Patter 
son  busily  at  work  with  a  sewing-machine.  The 
sight  was  a  novel  one  to  me  for  the  White  House, 
for  as  long  as  I  remained  with  Mrs.  Lincoln,  I  do 
not  recollect  ever  having  seen  her  with  a  needle 
in  her  hand.  The  last  work  done  for  the  John 
sons  by  me  were  two  dresses,  one  for  each  of  the 
sisters.  Mrs.  Patterson  subsequently  wrote  me  a 
note,  requesting  me  to  cut  and  fit  a  dress  for  her ; 
to  which  I  replied  that  I  never  cut  and  fitted  work 
to  be  made  up  outside  of  my  work-room.  This 
brought  our  business  relations  to  an  abrupt  end. 

The  months  passed,  and  my  business  prospered. 


226  Behind  the  Scenes. 

I  continually  received  letters  from  Mrs.  Lincoln, 
and  as  the  anniversary  of  her  husband's  death  ap 
proached,  she  wrote  in  a  sadder  strain.  Before  I 
left  Chicago  she  had  exacted  the  promise  that 
should  Congress  make  an  appropriation  for  her 
benefit,  I  must  join  her  in  the  West,  and  go  with 
her  to  visit  the  tomb  of  the  President  for  the  first 
time.  The  appropriation  was  made  one  of  the 
conditions  of  my  visit,  for  without  relief  from 
Congress  she  would  be  unable  to  bear  my  ex 
penses.  T3ie  appropriation  was  not  made ;  and 
so  I  was  unable  to  join  Mrs.  Lincoln  at  the  ap 
pointed  time.  She  wrote  me  that  her  plan  was 
to  leave  Chicago  in  the  morning  with  Tad,  reach 
Springfield  at  night,  stop  at  one  of  the  hotels, 
drive  out  to  Oak  Kidge  the  next  day,  and  take 
the  train  for  Chicago  the  same  evening,  thus 
avoiding  a  meeting  with  any  of  her  old  friends. 
This  plan,  as  she  afterwards  wrote  me,  was 
carried  out.  When  the  second  anniversary  ap 
proached,  President  Johnson  and  party  were 


Behind  the  Scenes.  227 

"swinging  round  the  circle,"  and  as  they  were  to 
visit  Chicago,  she  was  especially  anxious  to  be 
away  from  the  city  when  they  should  arrive ;  ac 
cordingly  she  hurried  off  to  Springfield,  and 
spent  the  time  in  weeping  over  the  tomb  where 
repose  the  hallowed  ashes  of  her  husband. 

During  all  this  time  I  was  asked  many  ques 
tions  about  Mrs.  Lincoln,  some  prompted  by 
friendship,  but  a  greater  number  by  curiosity ;  but 
my  brief  answers,  I  fear,  were  not  always  accept 
ed  as  the  most  satisfactory. 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  RIVALRY  BETWEEN  MR.  DOUGLAS 
AND  MR.  LINCOLN. 

|ES.  LINCOLN  from  her  girlhood  up 
had  an  ambition  to  become  the  wife 
of  a  President.  When  a  little  girl, 
as  I  was  told  by  one  of  her  sisters, 
she  was  disposed  to  be  a  little  noisy  at  times,  and 
was  self-willed.  One  day  she  was  romping 
about  the  room,  making  more  noise  than  the 
nerves  of  her  grandmother  could  stand.  The 
old  lady  looked  over  her  spectacles,  and  said,  in  a 
commanding  tone : 

"  Sit  down,  Mary.     Do   be  quiet.     What  on 


Behind  the  Scenes.  229 

earth  do  you  suppose  will  become  of  you  if  you 
go  on  this  way  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  will  be  the  wife  of  a  President  some 
day,"  carelessly  answered  the  petted  child. 

Mrs.  Lincoln,  as  Miss  Mary  Todd,  was  quite  a 
belle  in  Springfield,  Illinois,  and  from  all  ac 
counts  she  was  fond  of  flirting.  She  generally 
managed  to  keep  a  half-dozen  gentlemen  biting 
at  the  hook  that  she  baited  so  temptingly  for 
them.  The  world,  if  I  mistake  not,  are  not 
aware  that  the  rivalry  between  Mr.  Lincoln  and 
Mr.  Stephen  A.  Douglas  commenced  over  the 
hand  of  Miss  Mary  Todd.  The  young  lady  was 
ambitious,  and  she  smiled  more  sweetly  upon  Mr. 
Douglas  and  Mr.  Lincoln  than  any  of  her  other 
admirers,  as  they  were  regarded  as  rising  men. 
She  played  her  part  so  well  that  neither  of  the 
rivals  for  a  long  time  could  tell  who  would  win 
the  day.  Mr.  Douglas  first  proposed  for  her 
hand,  and  she  discarded  him.  The  young  man 
urged  his  suit  boldly  : 


230  JBehind  the  Scenes. 

"Mary,  you  do  not  know  what  you  -are  refu 
sing.  You  have  always  had  an  ambition  to 
become  the  wife  of  a  President  of  the  United 
States.  Pardon  the  egotism,  but  I  fear  that  in 
refusing  my  hand  to-night  you  have  thrown 
away  your  best  chance  to  ever  rule  in  the  White 
House." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  Douglas." 

"  Then  I  will  speak  more  plainly.  You  know, 
Mary,  that  I  am  ambitious  like  yourself,  and. 
something  seems  to  whisper  in  my  ear, 6  You  will 
be  President  some  day.'  Depend  upon  it,  1 
shall  make  a  stubborn  fight  to  win  the  proud* 
position." 

"  You  have  my  best  wishes,  Mr.  Douglas ; 
still  I  cannot  consent  to  be  your  wife.  I  shall 
become  Mrs.  President,  or  I  am  the  victim  of 
false  prophets,  but  it  will  not  be  as  Mrs. 
Douglas." 

.     I  have  this  little  chapter  in  a  romantic  history 
from  the  lips  of  Mrs.  Lincoln  herself. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  '  231 

At  one  of  the  receptions  at  the  White  House, 
shortly  after  the  first  inauguration,  Mrs.  Lincoln 
joined  in  the  promenade  with  Senator  Douglas. 
He  was  holding  a  bouquet  that  had  been  pre 
sented  to  her,  and  as  they  moved  along  he  said : 

"  Mary,  it  reminds  me  of  old  times  to  have  you 
lean  upon  my  arm." 

"  You  refer  to  the  days  of  our  youth.  I  must 
do  you  the  credit,  Mr.  Douglas,  to  say,  that  you 
were  a  gallant  beau." 

"  Not  only  a  beau,  but  a  lover.  Do  you 
remember  the  night  our  flirtation  was  brought  to 
an  end?" 

"  Distinctly.  You  now  see  that  I  was  right. 
I  am  Mrs.  President,  but  not  Mrs.  Douglas." 

"  True,  you  have  reached  the  goal  before  me, 
but  I  do  not  despair.  Mrs.  Douglas — a  nobler 
woman  does  not  live — if  I  am  spared,  may  possi 
bly  succeed  you  as  Mrs.  President." 

A  few  evenings  after  Mr.  Douglas  had  been 
discarded,  Mr.  Lincoln  made  a  formal  proposal 


232  Behind  the  Scenes. 

for  the  hand  of  Miss  Todd,  but  it  appears  that 
the  young  lady  was  not  willing  to  capitulate  at 
once.  She  believed  that  she  could  send  her 
lover  adrift  to-day  and  win  him  back  to-morrow. 

"  You  are  bold,  Mr.  Lincoln." 

"  Love  makes  me  bold." 

"  You  honor  me,  pardon  me,  but  I  cannot  con 
sent  to  be  your  wife." 

"  Is  this  your  final  answer,  Miss  Todd  ? "  and 
the  suitor  rose  nervously  to  his  feet. 

"I  do  not  often  jest,  Mr.  Lincoln.  Why 
should  I  reconsider  to-morrow  my  decision  of 
to-day." 

"Excuse  me.  Your  answer  is  sufficient.  I  was 
led  to  hope  that  I  might  become  dearer  to  you 
than  a  friend,  but  the  hope,  it  seems,  has  proved 
an  idle  one.  I  have  the  honor  to  say  good 
night,  Miss  Todd,"  and  pale,  yet  calm,  Mr. 
Lincoln  bowed  himself  out  of  the  room. 

He  rushed  to  his  office  in  a  frantic  state  of 
mind.  Dr.  Henry,  his  most  intimate  friend,  hap- 


^Behind  the  Scenes.  233 

pened  to  come  in,  and  was  surprised  to  see  the 
young  lawyer  walking  the  floor  in  an  agitated 
manner. 

u  What  is  the  matter,  Lincoln  ?  You  look  des 
perate." 

"  Matter !  I  am  sick  of  the  world.  It  is  a 
heartless,  deceitful  world,  and  I  care  not  how 
soon  I  am  out  of  it." 

"  You  rave.  What  has  happened  ?  Have  you 
been  quarrelling  with  your  sweetheart  ? " 

"  Quarrel !  I  wish  to  God  it  was  a  quarrel,  for 
then  I  could  look  forward  to  reconciliation ;  the 
girl  has  refused  to  become  my  wife,  after  leading 
me  to  believe  that  she  loved  me.  She  is  a  heart 
less  coquette." 

"  Don't  give  up  the  conquest  so  easily.  Cheer 
up,  man,  you  may  succeed  yet.  Perhaps  she 
is  only  testing  your  love." 

"  No !  I  believe  that  she  is  going  to  marry 
Douglas.  If  she  does  I  will  blow  my  brains  out." 

"  Nonsense !    That  would  not  mend  matters. 


234:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Your  brains  were  given  to  you  for  different  use. 
Come,  we  will  go  to  your  room  now.  Go  to  bed 
and  sleep  on  the  question,  and  you  will  get  up 
feeling  stronger  to-morrow ;"  and  Dr.  Henry  took 
the  arm  of  his  friend  Lincoln,  led  him  home,  and 
saw  him  safely  in  bed. 

The  next  morning  the  doctor  called  at  Mr. 
Lincoln's  room,  and  found  that  his  friend  had 
passed  a  restless  night.  Excitement  had  brought 
on  fever,  which  threatened  to  assume  a  violent 
form,  as  the  cause  of  the  excitement  still  re 
mained.  Several  days  passed,  and  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  confined  to  his  bed.  Dr.  Henry  at  once 
determined  to  call  on  Miss  Todd,  and  find  out 
how  desperate  the  case  was.  Miss  Todd  was  glad 
to  see  him,  and  she  was  deeply  distressed  to  learn 
that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  ill.  She  wished  to  go  to 
him  at  once,  but  the  Doctor  reminded  her  that  she 
was  the  cause  of  his  illness.  She  frankly  ac 
knowledged  her  folly,  saying  that  she  only  desired 
to  test  the  sincerity  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  love,  that  he 


Behind  the  Scenes.  235 

was  the  idol  of  her  heart,  and  that  she  would 
become  his  wife. 

The  Doctor  returned  with  joyful  news  to  his 
patient.  The  intelligence  proved  the  best  remedy 
for  the  disease.  Mutual  explanations  followed, 
and  in  a  few  months  Mr.  Lincoln  led  Miss  Todd 
to  the  altar  in  triumph. 

I  learned  these  facts  from  Dr.  Henry  and  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  I  believe  them  to  be  facts,  and  as  such 
have  recorded  them.  They  do  not  agree  with 
Mr.  Herndon's  story,  that  Mr.  Lincoln  never 
loved  but  one  woman,  and  that  woman  was  Ann 
Rutledge;'but  then  Mr.  Herndon's  story  must  be 
looked  upon  as  a  pleasant  piece  of  fiction. 
When  it  appeared,  Mrs.  Lincoln  felt  shocked 
that  one  who  pretended  to  be  the  friend  of  her 
dead  husband  should  deliberately  seek  to  blacken 
his  memory.  Mr.  Lincoln  wTas  far  too  honest  a 
man  to  marry  a  woman  that  he  did  not  love.  He 
was  a  kind  and  an  indulgent  husband,  and  when 
he  saw  faults  in  his  wife  he  excused  them  as  he 


236  Behind  the  Scenes. 

would  excuse  the  impulsive  acts  of  a  child.  In 
fact,  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  never  more  pleased  than 
when  the  President  called  her  his  child-wife. 

Before  closing  this  rambling  chapter  I  desire 
to  refer  to  another  incident. 

After  the  death  of  my  son,  Miss  Mary  Welsh,  a 
dear  friend,  one  of  my  old  St.  Louis  patrons,  called 
to.  see  me,  and  on  broaching  the  cause  of  my  grief, 
she  condoled  with  me.  She  knew  that  I  had 
looked  forward  to  the  day  when  my  son  would 
be  a  support  to  me — knew  that  he  was  to  become 
the  prop  and  main-stay  of  my  old  age,  and  know 
ing  this,  she  advised  me  to  apply  for  a  pension. 
I  disliked  the  idea  very  much,  and  told  her  so — 
told  her  that  I  did  not  want  to  make  money  out 
of  his  death.  She  explained  away  all  of  my 
objections— argued  that  Congress  had  made  an 
appropriation  for  the  specific  purpose  of  giving  a 
pension  to  every  widow  who  should  lose  an  only 
son  in  the  war,  and  insisted  that  I  should  have 
my  rights.  She  was  so  enthusiastic  in  the  matter 


Behind  the  Scenes.  237 

that  she  went  to  see  Hon.  O\ven  Lovejoy,  then  a 
member  of  the  House  from  Illinois,  and  laid  my 
case  before  him.  Mr.  Lovejoy  was  very  kind, 
and  said  as  I  was  entitled  to  the  pension,  I  should 
have  it,  even  if  he  had  to  bring  the  subject  before 
Congress.  I  did  not  desire  public  agitation,  and 
Mr.  Lovejoy  prepared  my  claim  and  laid  it  before 
the  Commissioners.  In  the  meantime  he  left 
Washington,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Lovejoy,  his  brother, 
prosecuted  the  claim  for  me,  and  finally  succeeded 
in  securing  me  a  pension  of  eight  dollars  per. 
inonfli.  Mr.  Joseph  Lovejoy  was  inclined  to  the 
Democratic  party,  and  he  pressed  my  claim  with 
great  earnestness  ;  he  hoped  that  the  claim  would 
not  be  allowed,  as  he  said  the  rejection  of  it 
would  make  capital  for  his  party.  Nevertheless 
the  pension  was  granted,  and  I  am  none  the  less 
thankful  to  Mr.  Joseph  Lovejoy  for  his  kindness 

to  me,  and  interest  in  my  welfare. 
11 


CHAPTEE  XIY. 


OLD  FRIENDS. 

order  to  introduce  a  pleasant  chap 
ter  of  my  life,  I  must  take  a  slight 
retrospective  glance.  Mrs.  Ann 
Garland,  the  mistress  from  whom 
I  purchased  my  freedom  in  St.  Louis,  had  five 
daughters,  all  lovely,  attractive  girls.  I  used  to 
take  pride  in  dressing  the  two  eldest,  Miss  Mary 
and  Miss  Carrie,  for  parties.  Though  the  family 
labored  under  pecuniary  embarrassment,  I  work 
ed  for  these  two  young  girls,  and  they  were 
always  able  to  present  a  good  appearance  in 
society.  They  were  much  admired,  and  both 


Behind  the  Scenes.  239 

made  the  best  matches  of  the  season.  Miss 
Mary  married  Dr.  Pappan,  and  Miss  Carrie,  Dr. 
John  Farrow.  I  loved  them  both  tenderly,  and 
they  were  warmly  attached  to  me.  Both  are 
now  dead,  and  when  the  death-film  was  gather 
ing  in  the  eyes,  each  called  for  me  and  asked  to 
die  in  my  arms.  Miss  Carrie  did  not  long  sur 
vive  her  sister,  and  I  wept  many  tears  over  the 
death-beds  of  the  two  lovely  flowers  that  had 
blossomed  so  sweetly  beneath  my  eyes..  Each 
breathed  her  last  in  the  arms  that  had  sheltered 
them  so  often  in  the  bright  rosy  period  of  life. 
My  mother  took  care  of  my  son,  and  Miss 
Nannie  Garland,  the  fourth  daughter,  wrhen  a 
wee  thing,  became  my  especial  charge.  She 
slept  in  my  bed,  and  I  watched  over  her  as  if 
she  had  been  my  own  child.  She  called  me 
Yiddie,  and  I  could  not  have  loved  her  more 
tenderly  had  she  been  the  sister  of  my  unfor 
tunate  boy.  She  was  about  twelve  years  old 
when  I  purchased  my  freedom,  and  resigned  my 


240  Behind  the  Scenes. 

charge  to  other  hands.  After  Mr.  Garland's 
death,  the  widow  moved  to  Vicksburg,  Missis 
sippi,  and  I  lost  sight  of  the  family  for  a  few 
years.  My  mother  accompanied  them  to  Vicks- 
burg,  where  she  died.  I  made  two  visits  to 
Yicksburg  as  a  free  woman,  the  object  of  my 
second  visit  being  to  look  after  the  few  effects 
left  by  my  mother.  As  I  did  not  visit  my 
mother's  grave  at  the  time,  the  Garlands  were 
much  surprised,  but  I  offered  no  explanation. 
The  reason  is  not  difficult  to  understand.  My 
mother  was  buried  in  a  public  ground,  and  the 
marks  of  her  grave,  as  I  learned,  were  so  obscure 
that  the  spot  could  not  be  readily  designated. 
To  look  upon  a  grave,  and  not  feel  certain  whose 
ashes  repose  beneath  the  sod,  is  painful,  and  the 
doubt  which  mystifies  you,  weakens  the  force,  if 
not  the  purity,  of  the  love-offering  from  the  heart. 
Memory  preserved  a  sunny  picture  of  my  mo 
ther's  face,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  weave  sombre 
threads — threads  suggestive  of  a  deserted  grave- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  241 

yard — into  it,  and  thus  impair  its  beauty.  After 
spending  a  few  weeks  with  the  family,  I  returned 
to  St.  Louis,  and  then  came  North.  The  war 
broke  out,  and  I  lost  all  trace  of  the  Garlands. 
Often,  during  my  residence  in  Washington,  I 
recalled  the  past,  and  wondered  what  had  become 
of  those  who  claimed  iny  first  duty  and  my  first 
love.  When  I  would  mention  their  names  and 
express  interest  in  their  welfare,  my  Northern 
friends  would  roll  up  their  eyes  in  surprise. 

""Why,  Lizzie,  how  can  you  have  a  kind 
thought  for  those  who  inflicted  a  terrible  wrong 
upon  you  by  keeping  you  in  bondage  ? "  they 
would  ask.  . 

"  You  forget  the  past  is  dear  to  every  one,  for 
to  the  past  belongs  that  golden  period,  the  days 
of  childhood.  The  past  is  a .  mirror  that  reflects 
the  chief  incidents  of  my  life.  To  surrender  it  is 
to  surrender  the  greatest  part  of  my  existence — 
early  impressions,  friends,  and  the  graves  of  my 
father,  my  mother,  and  my  son.  These  people 


242  Behind  the  Scenes. 

I  are  associated  with  everything  that  memory  holds 

dear,  and  so  long  as  memory  proves  faithful,  it  is 
but  natural  that  I  should  sigh  to  see  them  once 
more." 

"  But  they  have  forgotten  you.  They  are  too 
selfish  to  give  a  single  thought  to  you,  now  that 
you  no  longer  are  their  slave." 

"  Perhaps  so,  but  I  cannot  believe  it.  You  do 
not  know  the  Southern  people  as  well  as  I  do — 
how  warm  is  the  attachment  between  master  and 
slave." 

My  Northern  friends  could  not  understand  the 
feeling,  therefore  explanation  was  next  to  useless. 
They  would  listen  with  impatience,  and  remark 
at  the  close,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  "  You 
have  some  strange  notions,  Lizzie." 

In  the  fall  of  1865  a  lady  called  on  me  at  my 
apartments  in  Washington.  Her  face  looked 
familiar,  but  I  could  not  place  her.  When  I 
entered  the  room,  she  came  towards  me  eagerly : 

"  You  are  surprised  to  see  me,  I  know.     I  am 


V 


Behind  the  Scenes.  243 

just  from  Lynchburg,  and  when  I  left  cousin 
Ann  I  promised  to  call  and  see  you  if  I  came 
to  Washington.  I  am  here,  you  see,  according 
to  promise." 

I  was  more  bewildered  than  ever. 

"  Cousin  Ann !     Pardon  me — " 

"  Oh,  I  see  you  do  not  recognize  me.  I  am 
Mrs.  General  Longstreet,  but  }rou  knew  me 
when  a  girl  as  Bettie  Garland." 

O 

"  Bettie  Garland !  And  is  this  indeed  you?  I 
am  so  glad  to  see  you.  Where  does  Miss  Ann 
live  now?"  I  always  called  my  last  mistress, 
Miss  Ann. 

"Ah!  I  thought  you  could  not  forget  old 
friends.  Cousin  Ann  is  living  in  Lynchburg. 
All  the  family  are  in  Virginia.  They  moved  to 
the  old  State  during  the  war.  Fannie  is  dead. 
Nannie  has  grown  into  a  woman  and  is  married 
to  General  Meem.  Hugh  was  killed  in  the  war, 
and  now  only  Spot,  Maggie,  and  Nannie  are 
left." 


Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  Fannie,  dead !  and  poor  Hugh !  You  bring 
sad  news  as  well  as  pleasant.  And  so  my  little 
pet  is  married?  I  can  hardly  believe  it;  she 
was  only  a  child  when  I  saw  her  last." 

"  Yes,  Kannie  is  married  to  a  noble  man. 
General  Meem  belongs  to  one  of  the  best  fami 
lies  in  Virginia.  They  are  now  living  at  Rude's 
Hill,  up  beyond  Winchester,  in  the  Shenandoah 
Yalley.  All  of  them  want  to  see  you  very  badly/' 

"I  should  be -delighted  to  go  to  them.  Miss 
Bettie,  I  can  hardly  realize  that  you  are  the  wife 
of  General  Longs treet ;  and  just  think,  you  are 
now  sitting  in  the  very  chair  and  the  very 
room  where  Mrs.  Lincoln  has  often  sat !" 

She  laughed :  "  The  change  is  a  great  one, 
Lizzie;  we  little  dream  to-day  what  to-morrow 
will  bring  forth.  Well,  we  must  take  a  philo 
sophical  view  of  life.  After  fighting  so  long 
against  the  Yankees,  General  Longstreet  is  now 
in  Washington,  sueing  for  pardon,  and  we  pro 
pose  to  live  in  peace  with  the  United  States  again." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  245 

I  had  many  questions  to  ask  her  about  old 
friends,  and  the  time  passed  rapidly.  She  greet 
ed  me  with  the  frankness  that  she  had  always 
extended  to  me,  and  I  was  transported  to  days 
of  the  long-ago.  Her  stay  in  "Washington  was 
brief,  as  the  General  arranged  his  business,  and 
they  left  the  capital  the  next  day. 

Mrs.  Longstreet  gave  me  the  Garlands'  ad 
dress,  and  I  wrote  to  them,  expressing  the  hope 
that  I  would  be  able  to  see  them  before  long. 
In  reply  came  letters  full  of  tender  sympathy  and 
affection.  In  the  winter  of  1865,  Miss  Nannie 
wrote  to  me  that  she  had  the  best  husband  in  the 
world  ;  that  they  designed  going  to  housekeep 
ing  in  the  spring,  and  that  they  would  be  glad  to 
have  me  make  them  a  visit  in  July,  1866.  She 
sent  me  a  pressing  invitation.  "  You  must  come 
to  me,  dear  Lizzie,"  she  wrote.  "We  are  now 
living  at  Rude's  Hill.  I  am  dying  to  see  you. 
Ma,  Maggie,  Spot,  and  Minnie,  sister  Mary's 

child,  are  with  me,  and  you  only  are  needed  to 
11* 


21-6  Behind  the  Scenes. 

make   the   circle  complete.     Come ;    I  will  not 
take  no  for  an  answer." 

I  was  anxious  to  go  myself,  and  when  I  re 
ceived  the  urgent  invitation  I  concluded  to  go  at 
once,  and  I  wrote  them  to  expect  me  in  August. 
On  the  10th  of  August  I  left  Washington  for 
Virginia,  taking  the  train  for  Harper's  Ferry. 
The  journey  was  attended  with  several  disap 
pointments.  We  arrived  at  Harper's  Ferry  in 
the  night,  and  being  asleep  at  the  time,  I  was 
carried  to  the  station  beyond,  where  I  had  to 
wait  and  take  the  return  train.  After  return 
ing  to  Harper's  Ferry,  where  I  changed  cars 
for  Winchester,  I  missed  the  train,  and  was 
detained  another  day.  From  Winchester  the 
only  way  to  reach  Rude's  Hill  was  by  a  line 
of  stages.  We  commenced  the  weary  drive  in 
the  evening,  and  rode  all  night.  A  young  gen 
tleman  in  the  stage  said  that  he  knew  General 
Meem  wrell,  and  that  he  would  tell  me  when  wTe 
reached  the  place.  Relying  upon  him,  I  went 


Behind  the  Scenes.  247 

to  sleep,  and  it  appears  that  the  polite  young 
gentleman  followed  my  example.  About  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  one  of  the  passengers 
shook  me,  and  asked: 

"  Aunty,  don't  you  want  to  get  out  at  Rude's 
Hill?" 

I  started  up,  rubbing  my  eyes.     "  Yes.     Are 

we  there  ? " 

• 

"  More  than  there.     We  have  passed  it." 

"Passed  it!" 

"  Yes.  It  is  six  miles  back.  You  should  not 
sleep  so  soundly,  Aunty." 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  me  sooner?  I  am  so 
anxious  to  be  there." 

"  Fact  is,  I  forgot  it.  Never  mind.  Get  out 
at  this  village,  and  you  can  find  conveyance  back." 

The  village,  New  Market,  was  in  a  dilapidated 
condition  ;  everything  about  it  spoke  plainly  of 
the  sad  destruction  of  war.  Getting  out  of  the 
stage  I  went  into  a  house,  by  courtesy  named  a 
hotel,  where  I  obtained  a  cup  of  coffee. 


24:8  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  Is  there  no  conveyance  from  here  to  Rude's 
Hill?  "I  asked. 

"  Yes ;  the  stage  returns  this  evening,"  an 
swered  the  landlord. 

"  This  evening  !  I  want  to  go  as  soon  as  pos 
sible.  I  should  die  if  I  had  to  stay  all  day  in 
this  lonely  place." 

A  colored  man  behind  the  bar,  seeing  how 
earnest  I  was,  came  forward,  and  informed  me 
that  he  would  drive  me  over  to  General  Meem's 
place  in  an  hour.  This  w#s  joyful  news,  and  I 
urged  him  to  get  ready  to  start  as  soon  as  pos 
sible. 

While  standing  in  the  door  of  the  hotel,  im 
patiently  waiting  for  my  colored  friend  to  drive 
round  with  his  little  wagon,  a  fat  old  lady  wad 
dled  across  the  street  and  greeted  me. 

"  Ain't  you  Lizzie  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  surprised  that  she  should 
know  my  name. 

"  I  thought  so.     They  have  been  expecting  you 


Behind  the  Scenes.  249 

at  Eude's  Hill  every  day  for  two  weeks,  and  they 
do  but  little  but  talk  about  you.  Mrs.  Meem 
was  in  town  yesterday,  and  she  said  that  she 
expected  you  this  week  certain.  They  will  ba 
mighty  glad  to  see  you.  Why,  will  you  believe 
it !  they  actually  have  kept  a  light  burning  in  the 
front  window  every  night  for  ten  nights,  in  order 
that  you  might  not  go  by  the  place  should  you 
arrive  in  the  night." 

"  Thank  you.  It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  I 
am  expected.  I  fell  asleep  in  the  stage,  and 
failed  to  see  the  light,  so  am  here  instead  of  at 
Eude's  Hill." 

Just  then  the  colored  man  drove  up  with  the 
wagon,  and  I  got  in  with  him,  and  was  soon  on 
the  road  to  General  Meem's  country-seat. 

As  we  drove  up  to  Eude's  Hill,  I  observed  a 
young  man  standing  in  the  yard,  and  believing  it 
to  be  Spot,  whom  I  had  not  seen  for  eight  years, 
I  beckoned  to  him.  With  an  exclamation  of  joy, 
he  came  running  towards  me.  His  movements 


250  Behind  the  Scenes. 

attracted  the  attention  of  the  family,  and  in  a 
minute  the  door  was  crowded  with  anxious, 
inquiring  faces.  "  It  is  Lizzie !  It  is  Lizzie  !  " 
wras  the  happy  cry  from  all  parties.  In  my 
eagerness  to  get  to  them,  I  stepped  from  the 
wagon  to  the  top  of  the  stile,  intending  to  make 
a  triumphant  leap  into  the  yard ;  but,  alas !  my 
exultation  was  brief.  My  hoop-skirt  caught  on 
one  of  the  posts,  and  I  fell  sprawling  into  the 
yard.  Spot  reached  me  first  and  picked  me  up, 
only  to  put  me  into  the  arms  of  Miss  Nannie,  Her 
sister  Maggie,  and  Mrs.  Garland.  Could  my 
friends  of  the  North  have  seen  that  meeting,  they 
would  never  have  doubted  again  that  the  mis 
tress  had  any  affeption  for  her  former  slave.  I 
was  carried  to  the  house  in  triumph.  In  the  par 
lor  I  was  divested  of  my  things,  and  placed  in  an 
easy-chair  before  a  bright  fire.  The  servants 
looked  on  in  amazement. 

"  Lizzie,  you  are  not  changed  a  bit.     You  look 
as  young  as  when  you  left  us  in  St.  Louis,  years 


Behind  the  Scenes.  251 

ago,"  and  Mrs.  Meem,  my  foster  child,  kissed  me 
again. 

"  Here,  Lizzie,  this  is  Minnie,  Minnie  Pappan, 
sister  Mary's  child.  Hasn't  she  grown  ? "  and 
Miss  Maggie  led  a  tall,  queenly  lady  up  to  me. 

"Minnie!  Poor  dear  Miss  Mary's  child !  I 
can  hardly  believe  it.  She  was  only  a  baby 
when  I  saw  her  last.  It  makes  me  feel  old  to 
see  how  large  she  has  grown.  Miss  Minnie,  you 
are  larger  than  your  mother  was — your  dear 
mpther  whom  I  held  in  my  arms  when  she  died ; " 
and  I  brushed  a  tear  from  each  of  my  eyes. 

"  Have  you  had  your  breakfast,  Lizzie  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Garland. 

"  ISTo,  she  has  not,"  exclaimed  her  children  in  a 
chorus.  u  I  will  get  her  breakfast  for  her,"  and 
Nannie,  Maggie,  and  Minnie  started  for  the 
kitchen.  v 

"  It  is  not  necessary  that  all  should  go,"  said 
Mrs.  Garland.  "  Here  is  the  cook,  she  will  get 
breakfast  ready." 


252  Behind  the  Scenes. 

But  the  three  did  not  heed  her.  All  rushed  to 
the  kitchen,  and  soon  brought  me  a  nice  hot 
breakfast. 

While  I  was  eating,  the  cook  remarked :  "  I 
declar,  I  nebber  did  see  people  carry  on  so. 
"Wonder  if  I  should  go  off  and  stay  two  or  three 
years,  if  all  ob  you  wud  hug  and  kiss  me  so  when 
I  cum  back  ?  " 

After  I  had  finished  my  breakfast,  General 
Meem  came  in.  He  greeted  me  warmly.  "  Liz 
zie,  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  I  feel  that  you 
are  an  old  acquaintance,  I  have  heard  so  much 
of  you  through  my  wife,  her  sister,  and  her 
mother.  Welcome  to  Rude's  Hill." 

I  was  much  pleased  with  his  appearance,  and 
closer  acquaintance  proved  him  to  be  a  model 
gentleman. 

Rude's  Hill,  during  the  war,  was  once  occupied 
by  General  Stonewall  Jackson  for  his  head-quar 
ters,  which  gave  more  than  ordinary  interest  to 
the  place.  The  location  was  delightful,  but  9ie 


Behind  the  Scenes.  253 

marks  of  war  could  be  seen  everywhere  on  the 
plantation.  General  Meem  was  engaged  in 
planting,  and  he  employed  a  large  number  of  ser 
vants  to  assist  him  in  his  work.  About  a  mile 
from  Rude's  Hill  was  Mount  Airy,  the  elegant 
country-seat  of  the  General's  brother.  The  two 
families  visited  each  other  a  great  deal,  and  as 
both  entertained  plenty  of  company,  the  Autumn 
months  passed  pleasantly.  I  was  comfortably 
quartered  at  Rude's  Hill,  and  was  shown  every 
attention.  We  sewed  together,  talking  of  old 
times,  and  every  day  either  drove  out,  or  rode  on 
horseback.  The  room  in  which  I  sat  in  the  day 
time  was  the  room  that  General  Jackson  always 
slept  in,  and  people  came  from  far  and  near  to 
look  at  it.  General  Jackson  was  the  ideal  soldier 
of  the  Southern  people,  and  they  worshipped  him 
as  an  idol.  Every  visitor  would  tear  a  splinter 
from  the  walls  or  windows  of  the  room,  to  take 
away  and  treasure  as  a  priceless  relic. 

It  did  not  take  me  long  to  discover  that  I  was 


254:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

an  object  of  great  curiosity  in  the  neighborhood. 
My  association  with  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  my  attach 
ment  for  the  Garlands,  whose  slave  I  had  once 
been,  clothed  me  with  romantic  interest. 

Colonel  Harry  Gilmore,  well  known  as  a  parti 
san  leader  in  Maryland  and  Virginia  during  the 
war,  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Mount  Airy  and 
Rude's  Hill.  One  day  I  accompanied  a  party  to 
a  tournament,  and  General  Meem  laughed  plea 
santly  over  the  change  that  had  come  to  me  in  so 
short  a  time. 

"  Why,  Lizzie,  you  are  riding  with  Colonel  Gil- 
more.  Just  think  of  the  change  from  Lincoln  to 
Gilmore  !  It  sounds  like  a  dream.  But  then  the 
change  is  an  evidence  of  the  peaceful  feeling  of 
this  country ;  a  change,  I  trust,  that  augurs 
brighter  days  for  us  all." 

I  had  many  long  talks  with  Mrs.  Garland,  in 
one  of  which  I  asked  what  had  become  of  the 
only  sister  of  my  mother,  formerly  maid  to  Mrs. 
G.'s  mother. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  255 

"  She  is  dead,  Lizzie.    Has  been  dead  for  some 

years.     A  maid  in  the  old  time  meant  something 

•j 

different  from  what  we  understand  by  a  maid  at 
the  present  time.  Your  aunt  used  to  scrub  the 
floor  and  milk  a  cow  now  and  then,  as  well  as 
attend  to  the  orders  of  my  mother.  My  mother 
was  severe  with  her  slaves  in  some  respects,  but 
then  her  heart  was  full  of  kindness.  She  had  your 
aunt  punished  one  day,  and  not  liking  her  sor 
rowful  look,  she  made  two  extravagant  promises 
in  order  to  effect  a  reconciliation,  both  of  which 
were  accepted.  On  condition  that  her  maid 
would  look  cheerful,  and  be  good  and  friendly 
with  her,  the  mistress  told  her  she  might  go  to 
church  the  following  Sunday,  and  that  she  would 
give  her  a  silk  dress  to  wear  on  the  occasion. 
Now  my  mother  had  but  one  silk  dress  in  the 
world,  silk  not  being  so  plenty  in  those  days  as 
it  is  now,  and  yet  she  gave  this  dress  to  her  maid 
to  make  friends  with  her.  Two  weeks  afterward 
mother  was  sent  for  to  spend  the  day  at  a  neigh- 


256  Behind  the  Scenes. 

-'..!   - 

bor's  house,  and  on  inspecting  her  wardrobe,  dis 
covered  that  she  had  no  dress  fit  to  wear  in  com 
pany.  She  had  but  one  alternative,  and  that  was 
to  appeal  to  the  generosity  of  your  aunt  Char 
lotte.  Charlotte  was  summoned,  and  enlightened 
in  regard  to  the  situation  ;  the  maid  proffered  to 
loan  the  silk  dress  to  her  mistress  for  the  occasion, 
and  the  mistress  was  only  too  glad  to  accept. 
She  made  her  appearance  at  the  social  gathering, 
duly  arrayed  in  the  silk  that  her  maid  had  worn 
to  church  on  the  preceding  Sunday." 

We  laughed  over  the  incident,  when  Mrs. 
Garland  said :  "  Lizzie,  during  the  entire  war  I 
used  to  think  of  you  every  day,  and  have  longed 
to  see  you  so  much.  When  we  heard  you  were 
with  Mrs.  Lincoln,  the  people  used  to  tell  me 
that  I  was  foolish  to  think  of  ever  seeing  you 
again — that  your  head  must  be  completely  turned. 
But  I  knew  your  heart,  and  could  not  believe  that 
you  would  forget  us.  I  always  argued  that  you 
would  come  and  see  us  some  day." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  257 

"  You  judged  me  rightly,  Miss  Ann.  How 
could  I  forget  you  whom  I  had  grown  up  with 
from  infancy.  Northern  people  used  to  tell  me 
that  you  would  forget  me,  but  I  told  them  I  knew 
better,  and  hoped  on." 

"  Ah !  love  is  too  strong  to  be  blown  away  like 
gossamer  threads.  The  chain  is  strong  enough 
to  bind  life  even  to  the  world  beyond  the  grave. 
Do  you  always  feel  kindly  towards  me,  Lizzie  ? " 

"  To  tell  you  candidly,  Miss  Ann,  I  have  but 
one  unkind  thought,  and  that  is,  that  you  did 
not  give  me  the  advantages  of  a  good  education. 
"What  I  have  learned  has  been  the  study  of  after 
years." 

"  You  are  right.  I  did  not  look  at  things 
then  as  I  do  now.  I  have  always  regretted  that 
you  were  not  educated  when  a  girl.  But  you 
have  not  suffered  much  on  this  score,  since  you 
get  along  in  the  world  better  than  we  who  en 
joyed  every  educational  advantage  in  childhood." 

I  remained  five   weeks   at   Eude's  Hill,  and 


258  Behind  ike  Scenes. 

they  were  five  of  the  most  delightful  weeks  of  my 
life.  I  designed  going  direct  to  Richmond,  but 
the  cholera  was  reported  to  be  raging  in  that  city, 
so  I  took  the  train  for  Baltimore.  In  Baltimore 
I  stopped  with  Mrs.  Annette  Jordan.  Mrs.  Gar 
land  had  given  me  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Douglas  Gor 
don,  who  introduced  me  to  several  Baltimore 
ladies,  among  others  Mrs.  Doctor  Thomas,  who 
said  to  me,  with  tears  in  her  eyes :  "  Lizzie,  you 
deserve  to  meet  with  success  for  having  been  so 
kind  to  our  friends  in  the  days  of  the  past.  I 
wish  there  were  more  women  in  the  world  like 
you.  I  will  always  do  what  little  I  can  to  pro 
mote  your  welfare." 

After  remaining  in  Baltimore  a  few  days,  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  I  could  do  better  in 
"Washington ;  so  I  returned  to  the  capital,  and  re 
opened  my  business. 

In  the  spring  of  1867,  Miss  Maggie  Garland 
paid  a  visit  to  Baltimore.  Before  leaving  Vir 
ginia  she  said  to  some  of  her  friends  in  Lynch- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  259 

burg  that  she  designed  going  by  Washington  to 
see  Lizzie.  Her  friends  ridiculed  the  idea,  but 
she  persisted : 

"I  love  Lizzie  next  to  mother.  She  has  been 
a  mother  to  us  all.  Half  the  pleasure  of  my 
visit  is  that  I  will  be  able  to  see  her." 

She  wrote  me  a  letter,  saying  that  she  designed 
visiting  me,  asking  if  it  would  be  agreeable.  I 
replied,  "  Yes,  come  by  all  means.  I  shall  be  so 
glad  to  see  you." 

She  came  and  stayed  at  my  rooms,  and 
expressed  surprise  to  find  me  so  comfortably 
fixed. 

I  cannot  do  better  than  conclude  this  chapter 
with  two  letters  from  my  dear  young  friends,  the 
first  from  Mrs.  General  Meem,  and  the  second 
from  Miss  Maggie  Garland.  These  letters  show 
the  goodness  of  their  hearts  and  the  frankness  of 
their  natures.  I  trust  that  they  will  not  object 
to  the  publicity  that  I  give  them  : 


260  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"RuDE'sHiLL,  Sept.  14,  1867. 

"  MY  DEAK  LIZZIE  : — I  am  nearly  ashamed  of 
myself  for  neglecting  to  acknowledge  the  receipt 
of  your  letter,  and  the  very  acceptable  box  of 
patterns,  some  weeks  ago ;  but  you  will  pardon 
my  remissness,  I  know,  for  you  can  imagine 
what  a  busy  time  I've  had  all  summer,  with  a 
house  full  of  company  most  of  the  time,  and  with 
very  inefficient  servants,  and  in  some  departments 
none  at  all  /  so  I  have  had  to  be  at  times  dining- 
room  servant,  house-maid,  and  the  last  and  most 
difficult,  dairy-maid.  But  I  have  turned  that 
department  over  to  our  gardener,  who,  though  as 
green  at  the  business  as  myself,  seems  willing  to 
learn,  and  has  been  doing  the  milking  all  sum 
mer.  These  are  afeio  of  the  reasons  why  I  have 
not  written  to  you  before,  for  I  hope  you  will 
always  believe  that  you  occupy  a  large  place  in 
my  memory  and  affection,  whether  I  write  to  you 
or  not  ;  and  such  a  poor  correspondent  as  your 
self  ought  not  to  complain.  Mother,  Mag,  Uncle 


Behind  the  Scenes.  201 

John,  and  Spot  are  still  with  us  ;  the  former  will 
pass  the  winter  with  me,  but  the  others  all  talk 
of  leaving  before  long.  The  approach  of  winter 
always  scatters  our  guests,  and  we  have  to  spend 
the  long,  dreary  winters  alone.  But  we  are  to 
have  the  railroad  to  Mt.  Jackson  by  Christmas, 
perhaps  sooner ;  and  then,  if  we  can  raise  the 
wind,  we  can  spend  a  portion  of  the  winter  in  the 
city,  and  I  hope  you  will  find  time  to  come  up 
and  spend  the  day  with  me,  as  we  will  be  near 
neighbors.  I  so  seldom  indulge  in  the  pleasant 
task  of  writing  letters  that  I  scarcely  know  what 
will  interest  my  correspondent,  but  I  flatter  my 
self  that  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  anything  and 
everything  about  us  all,  so  I'll  begin  with  the 
children.  Hugh  has  improved  a  great  deal,  and 
is  acknowledged  to  be  the  smartest  child  and  the 
finest  looking  in  the  State ;  he  talks  as  plainly  as 
I  do,  and  just  as  understandingly  as  a  child  of 
ten  years  old ;  his  nurse  often  says  we  need  not 
set  our  hearts  on  that  child,  he  is  too  smart  ever 


262  Behind  the  Scenes. 

to  be  raised ;  but  I  trust  his  badness  will  save 
him,  for  he  is  terribly  spoilt,  as  such  interesting 
children  are  bound  to  be.  Miss  Eliza,  no  longer 
called  Jane,  is  getting  to  be  a  little  '  star  girl,' 
as  her  Papa  calls^her;  she  is  just  learning  to 
walk,  and  says  a  good  many  words  quite  plainly. 
You  would  never  take  her  for  the  same  little  cry 
baby  of  last  summer,  and  she  is  a  little  beauty 
too — as  white  as  the  driven  snow,  with  the  most 
beautiful  blue  eyes,  and  long,  dark  lashes  you 
ever  saw.  She  will  set  somebody  crazy  if  she 
grows  up  to  be  as  lovely  as  she  now  promises  to 
be.  My  dear  good  husband  has  been,  like  my 
self,  run  to  death  this  summer ;  but  it  agrees  with 
him,  and  I  never  saw  him  looking  better.  He 
has  fallen  off  a  little,  which  is  a  great  improve 
ment,  I  think.  He  often  speaks  of  you,  and 
wonders  if  you  were  sufficiently  pleased  with 
your  visit  last  summer  to  repeat  it.  I  hope  so, 
for  we  will  always  be  glad  to  welcome  you  to 
Kude's  Hill,  whenever  you  have  time  to  come ; 


Behind  the  Scenes.  263 

provided,  of  course,  you  have  the  wish  also.  Spot 
expects  to  hang  out  his  shingle  in  St.  Louis  next 
winter.  His  health  is  greatly  improved,  though 
he  is  still  very  thin,  and  very,  very  much  like 
dear  father.  Mag  has  promised  to  teach  a  little 
cousin  of  ours,  who  lives  in  Nelson  County,  until 
February,  and  will  leave  here  in  two  weeks  to 
commence  her  labors.  I  hate  to  see  her  leave, 
but  she  is  bent  on  it,  and  our  winters  are  so 
unattractive  that  I  do  not  like  to  insist  on  her 
shutting  herself  up  all  winter  with  three  old 
people.  She  will  have  very  pleasant  society  at 
Cousin  Buller's,  and  will  perhaps  spend  the  rest 
of  the  winter  with  Aunt  Pris,  if  Uncle  Armis- 
tead  remains  in  Binghampton,  New  York,  as  he 
talks  of  doing.  Do  write  to  me  before  you  get 
too  busy  with  your  fall  and  winter  work  ;  I  am  so 
anxious  to  hear  all  your  plans,  and  about  your 
stay  in  New  York.  By  the  by,  I  will  have  to 
direct  this  to  Washington,  as  I  do  not  know  your 
New  York  address.  I  suppose  your  friends  will 


264  Behind  the  Scenes. 

forward  it.  If  you  are  going  to  remain  any 
length  of  time  in  New  York,  send  me  your 
address,  and  I  will  write  again.  * 

I  have  somehow  made  out  a  long  letter,  though 
there  is  not  much  in  it,  and  I  hope  you  will  do 
the  same  before  long.     All  send  love. 
"  Yours  affectionately, 

"K  K.  G.  MEEM. 

"  My  pen  and  ink  are  both  so  wretched  that  1 
fear  you  will  find  some  difficulty  in  making  out  this 
scratch ;  but  put  on  your  specks,  and  what  you 
can't  read,  just  guess  at.  I  enclose  a  very  poor 
likeness  of  Hugh  taken  last  spring ;  don't  show  it 
to  anybody,  for  I  assure  you  there  is  scarcely  the 
faintest  resemblance  to  him  now  in  it. 

"K  E.  G.  M." 

I  give  only  a  few  extracts  from  the  plea 
sant  letter  from  Miss  Maggie  Garland.  The 
reader  will  observe  that  she  signs  herself  "  Your 
child,  Mag,"  an  expression  of  love  warmly  appre 
ciated  by  me : 


Behind  the  Scenes.  265 

"SEDDES,   Dec.   17,   1867. 

"  So  many  months  have  passed,  my  dear  Lizzie, 
since  I  was  cheered  by  a  sight  of  your  welcome 
handwriting,  that  I  must  find  out  what  is  the 
matter,  and  see  if  I  can't  persuade  you  to  write 
me  a  few  lines.  "Whatever  comes,  '  weal  or  woe,' 
you  know  I  shall  always  love  you,  and  I  have 
no  idea  of  letting  you  forget  me ;  so  just  make  up 
your  mind  to  write  me  a  nice  long  letter,  and  tell 
me  what  you  are  doing  with  yourself  this  cold 
weather.  I  am  buried  in  the  wilds  of  Amherst, 
and  the  cold,  chilling  blasts  of  December  come 
whistling  around,  and  tell  us  plainly  that  the 
reign  of  the  snow-king  has  begun  in  good 
earnest.  Since  October  I  have  been  teaching 
for  my  cousin,  Mr.  Claiborne,  and  although  I 
am  very  happy,  and  every  one  is  so  kind  to  me, 
I  shall  not  be  sorry  when  the  day  comes  when  I 
shall  shut  up  school-books  forever.  None  of 
'  Miss  Ann's '  children  were  cut  out  for  l  school- 
marms,'  were  they,  Yiddie  ?  I  am  sure  I  was  only 


266  Behind  the  Scenes. 

made  to  ride  in  my  carriage,  and  play  on  the 
piano.  Don't  you  think  so  I'-.  •*•'*,.'*  You 
must  write  me  where  you  are,  so  I  can  stop  and 
see  you  on  my  way  North ;  for  you  know,  dear 
Lizzie,  no  one  can  take  your  place  in  my  heart. 
I  expect  to  spend  the  Christmas  holidays  in 
Lynchburg.  It  will  be  very  gay  there,  and  I  will 
be  glad  enough  to  take  a  good  dance.  This  is 
a  short  letter  to  send  you  after  such  a  long  silence, 
but  'tis  too  cold  to  write.  Let  me  hear  from  you 
very  soon. 

"  Your  child  MAG. 
"  Please  write,  for  I  long  to  hear  from  you." 


CHAPTER  XY. 


THE  SECRET  HISTORY  OF  MRS.  LINCOLN'S  WARDROBE 
IN  NEW  YORK. 

N"  March,  1867,  Mrs.  Lincoln  wrote 
to  me  from  Chicago  that,  as  her  in 
come  was  insufficient  to  meet  her 
expenses,  she  would  be  obliged  to 
give  up  her  house  in  the  city,  and  return  to 
boarding.  She  said  that  she  had  struggled  long 
enough  to  keep  up  appearances,  and  that  the 
mask  must  be  thrown  aside.  "I  have  not  the 
means,"  she  wrote,  "  to  meet  the  expenses  of  even 
a  first-class  boarding-house,  and  must  sell  out  and 
secure  cheap  rooms  at  some  place  in  the  country. 


268  Behind  the  Scenes. 

It  will  not  be  startling  news  to  you,  my  dear 
Lizzie,  to  learn  that  I  must  sell  a  portion  of  my 
wardrobe  to  add  to  my  resources,  so  as  to  enable 
me  to  live  decently,  for  you  remember  what  I 
told  you  in  "Washington,  as  well  as  what  you 
understood  before  you  left  me  here  in  Chicago. 
I  cannot  live  on  $1,700  a  year,  and  as  I  have 
many  costly  things  which.  I  shall  never  wear, 
I  might  as  well  turn  them  into  money,  and 
thus  add  to  my  income,  and  make  my  circum 
stances  easier.  It  is  humiliating  to  be  placed  in 
such  a  position,  but,  as  I  am  in  the  position,  I 
must  extricate  myself  as  best  I  can.  Now,  Lizzie, 
I  want  to  ask  a  favor  of  you.  It  is  imperative 
that  I  should  do  something  for  my  relief,  and 
I  want  you  to  meet  me  in  New  York,  between 
the  30th  of  August  and  the  5th  of  September 
next,  to  assist  me  in  disposing  of  a  portion  of 
my  wardrobe." 

I  knew  that  Mrs.  Lincoln's  income  was  small, 
and    also  knew  that    she    had  many   valuable 


Behind  tlie,  Scenes.  269 

dresses,  which  could  be  of  no  value  to  her, 
packed  away  in  boxes  and  trunks.  I  was  confi 
dent  that  she  would  never  wear  the  dresses  again, 
and  thought  that,  since  her  need  was  urgent,  it 
would  be  well  enough  to  dispose  of  them  quietly, 
and  believed  that  New  York  was  the  best  place 
to  transact  a  delicate  business  of  the  kind.  She 
was  the  wife  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  man  who 
had  done  so  much  for  my  race,  and  I  could  refuse 
to  do  nothing  for  her,  calculated  to  advance  her 
interests.  I  consented  to  render  Mrs.  Lincoln  all 
the  assistance  in  my  power,  and  many  letters 
passed  between  us  in  regard  to  the  best  way  to 
proceed.  It  was  finally  arranged  that  I  should 

meet  her  in  New  York  about  the  middle  of  Sep- 

\ 
tember.      While  thinking  over  this  question,  I 

remembered  an  incident  of  the  White  House. 
When  we  were  packing  up  to  leave  Washington 
for  Chicago,  she  said  to  me,  one  morning : 

"  Lizzie,  I  may  see  the  day  when  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  sell  a  portion  of  my  wardrobe.     If 


2  TO  Behind  the  Scenes. 

Congress  does  not  do  something  for  me,  then  my 
dresses  some  day  may  have  to  go  to  bring  food 
into  my  mouth,  and  the  mouths  of  my  children." 

I  also  remembered  of  Mrs.  L.  having  said  to 
me  at  different  times,  in  the  years  of  1863  and 
'4,  that  her  expensive  dresses  might  prove  of 
great  assistance  to  her  some  day. 

"  In  what  way,  Mrs.  Lincoln  ?  I  do  not  un 
derstand,"  I  ejaculated,  the  first  time  she  made 
the  remark  to  me.  - 

"  Very  simple  to  understand.  Mr.  Lincoln  is 
so  generous  that  he  will  not  save  anything  from 
his  salary,  and  I  expect  that  we  will  leave  the 
White  House  poorer  than  when  we  came  into  it ; 
and  should  such  be  the  case,  I  will  have  no  fur 
ther  need  for  an  expensive  wardrobe,  and  it  will 
be  policy  to  sell  it  off." 

I  thought  at  the  time  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  was 
borrowing  trouble  from  the  future,  and  little 
dreamed  that  the  event  which  she  so  dimly  fore 
shadowed  would  ever  come  to  pass. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  271 

I  closed  my  business  about  the  10th  of  Sep 
tember,  and  made  every  arrangement  to  leave 
Washington  on  the  mission  proposed.  On  the 
15th  of  September  I  received  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  post-marked  Chicago,  saying  that  she 
should  leave  the  city  so  as  to  reach  New  York 
on  the  night  of  the  17th,  and  directing  me  to 
precede  her  to  the  metropolis,  and  secure  rooms 
for  her  at  the  St.  Denis  Hotel  in  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Clarke,  as  her  visit  was  to  be  incog.  The 
contents  of  the  letter  were  startling  to  me.  I 
had  never  heard  of  the  St.  Denis,  and  therefore 
presumed  that  it  could  not  be  a  first-class  house. 
And  I  could  not  understand  why  Mrs.  Lincoln 
should  travel,  without  protection,  under  an 
assumed  name.  I  knew  that  it  would  be  impos 
sible  for  me  to  engage  rooms  at  a  strange  hotel 
for  a  person  whom  the  proprietors  knew  nothing 
about.  I  could  not  write  to  Mrs.  Lincoln,  since 
she  would  be  on  the  road  to  New  York  before  a 
letter  could  possibly  reach  Chicago.  I  could  not 


272  Behind  the  Scenes. 

telegraph  her,  for  the  business  was  of  too  delicate 
a  character  to  be  trusted  to  the  wires  that  would 
whisper  the  secret  to  every  curious  operator 
along,  the  line.  In  my  embarrassment,  I  caught 
at  a  slender  thread  of  hope,  and  tried  to  derive 
consolation  from  it.  I  knew  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  be 
indecisive  about  some  things,  and  I  hoped  that  she 
might  change  her  mind  in  regard  to  the  strange 
programme  proposed,  and  at  the  last  moment 
despatch  me  to  this  effect.  The  16th,  and  then 
the  17th  of  September  passed,  and  no  despatch 
reached  me,  so  on  the  18th  I  made  all  haste  to 
take  the  train  for  New  York.  After  an  anxious 
ride,  I  reached  the  city  in  the  evening,  and  when 
I  stood  alone  in  the  streets  of  the  great  metropo 
lis,  my  heart  sank  within  me.  I  was  in  an 
embarrassing  situation,  and  scarcely  knew  how 
to  act.  I  did  not  know  where  the  St.  Denis 
Hotel  was,  and  was  not  certain  that  I  should 
find  Mrs.  Lincoln  there  after  I  should  go  to  it. 
I  walked  up  to  Broadway,  and  got  into  a  stage 


Behind  the  Scenes.  273 

going  up  town,  with  the  intention  of  keeping  a 
close  look-out  for  the  hotel  in  question.  A  kind- 
looking  gentleman  occupied  the  seat  next  to  me, 
and  I  ventured  to  inquire  of  him : 

"If  you  please,  sir,  can  you  tell  me  where  the 
St.  Denis  Hotel  is?" 

"Yes;  we  ride  past  it  in  the  stage.  I  will 
point  it  out  to  you  when  we  come  to  it." 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

The  stage  rattled  up  the  street,  and  after  a 
while  the  gentleman  looked  out  of  the  window 
and  said : 

"  This  is  the  St.  Denis.  Do  you  wish  to  get 
out  here  ? " 

"  Thank  you.     Yes,  sir." 

He  pulled  the  strap,  and  the  next  minute  I  was 
standing  on  the  pavenent.  I  pulled  a  bell  at  the 
ladies'  entrance  to  the  hotel,  and  a  boy  coming  to 
the  door,  I  asked : 

"  Is  a  lady  by  the  name  of  Mrs.  Clarke  stop 
ping  here  ?     She  came  last  night,  I  believe." 
12* 


274:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  will  ask  at  the  office  ;"  and 
I  wras  left  alone. 

The  boy  came  back  and  said  : 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Clarke  is  here.  Do  you  want  to 
see  her  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"Well,  just  walk  round  there.  She  is  down 
here  now." 

I  did  not  know  where  "  round  there  "  exactly 
was,  but  I  concluded  to  go  forward. 

I  stopped,  however,  thinking  that  the  lady 
might  be  in  the  parlor  with  company  ;  and  pulling 
out  a  card,  asked  the  boy  to  take  it  to  her.  She 
heard  me  talking,  and  came  into  the  hall  to  see 
herself. 

"  My  dear  Lizzie,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,"  she 
exclaimed,  corning  forward  and  giving  me  her 
hand.  "I  have  just  received  your  note" — Iliad 
written  her  that  I  should  join  her  on  the  18th — 
"  and  have  been  trying  to  get  a  room  for  you. 
Your  note  has  been  here  all  day,  but  it  was  never 


Behind  the  Scenes.  275 

delivered  until  to-night.  Come  in  here,  until  I 
find  out  about  your  room  ;  "  and  she  led  me  into 
the  office. 

The  clerk,  like  all  modern  hotel  clerks,  was 
exquisitely  arrayed,  highly  perfumed,  and  too 
self-important  to  be  obliging,  or  even  courteous. 

"  This  is  the  woman  I  told  you  about.  I  want 
a  good  room  for  her,"  Mrs.  Lincoln  said  to  the 
clerk. 

"  We  have  no  room  for  her,  madam,"  was  the 
pointed  rejoinder. 

"  But  she  must  have  a  room.  She  is  a  friend  of 
mine,  and  I  want  a  room  for  her  adjoining  mine." 

"  We  have  no  room  for  her  on  your  floor." 

"  That  is  strange,  sir.  I  tell  you  that  she  is 
a  friend  of  mine,  and  I  am  sure  you  could  not 
give  a  room  to  a  more  worthy  person." 

"  Friend  of  yours,  or  not,  I  tell  you  we  have 
no  room  for  her  on  your  floor.  I  can  find  a 
place  for  her  on  the  fifth  floor." 

"  That,  sir,  I  presume,  will  be  a  vast  improve- 


276  Behind  the  Scenes. 

ment  on  my  room.  "Well,  if  she  goes  to  the  fifth 
floor,  I  shall  go  too,  sir.  What  is  good  enough 
for  her  is  good  enough  for  me." 

"  Very  well,  madam.  Shall  I  give  you  adjoin 
ing  rooms,  and  send  your  baggage  up  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  have  it  done  in  a  hurry.  Let  the 
boy  show  us  up.  Come,  Elizabeth,"  and  Mrs. 
L.  turned  from  the  clerk  with  a  haughty  glance, 
and  we  commenced  climbing  the  stairs.  I  thought 
we  should  never  reach  the  top;  and  when  we 
did  reach  the  fifth  story,  what  accommodations ! 
Little  three-cornered  rooms,  scantily  furnished. 
I  never  expected  to  see  the  widow  of  President 
Lincoln  in  such  dingy,  humble  quarters. 

"  How  provoking !  "  Mrs.  Lincoln  exclaimed, 
sitting  down  on  a  chair  when  we  had  reached 
the  top,  and  panting  from  the  effects  of  the 
climbing.  "  I  declare,  I  never  saw  such  unac 
commodating  people.  Just  to  think  of  them 
sticking  us  away  up  here  in  the  attic.  I  will 
give  them  a  regular  going  over  in  the  morning." 


Behind  the  Scenes.  277 

"But  you  forget.  They  do  not  know  you. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  would  be  treated  differently  from 
Mrs.  Clarke." 

"  True,  I  do  forget.  Well,  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  put  up  with  the  annoyances.  Why  did 
you  not  come  to  me  yesterday,  Lizzie  ?  I  was 
almost  crazy  when  I  reached  here  last  night,  and 
found  you  had  not  arrived.  I  sat  down  and 
wrote  you  a  note — I  felt  so  badly — imploring  you 
to  come  to  me  immediately." 

This  note  was  afterwards  sent  to  me  from 
Washington.  It  reads  as  follows  : 

"  ST.  DENIS  HOTEL,  BROADWAY,  N.  Y. 
"Wednesday,  Sept.  17th. 

"My  DEAR  LIZZIE  :— I  arrived  here  last  even 
ing  in  utter  despair  at  not  finding  you.  I  am 
frightened  to  death,  being  here  alone.  Come,  I 
pray  you,  by  next  train.  Inquire  for 

"MRS.  CLARKE, 
"  Room  94,  $th  or  6th  Story. 


278  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  House   so   crowded   could   not  get   another 
spot.     I  wrote  you  especially  to  meet  me  here 
last  evening ;  it  makes  me  wild  to  think  of  being 
here  alone.     Come  by  next  train,  without  fail. 
"  Your  friend, 

"  MBS.  LINCOLN. 

"  I  am  booked  Mrs.  Clarke  ;  inquire  for  no 
other  person.  Come,  come,  come.  I  will  pay  your 
expenses  when  you  arrive  here.  I  shall  not  leave 
here  or  change  my  room  until  you  come. 

"  Your  friend,  M.  L. 

"  Do  not  leave  this  house  without  seeing  me. 

"  Come  !  " 

I  transcribe  the  letter  literally. 

In  reply  to  Mrs.  Lincoln's  last  question,  I  ex 
plained  what  has  already  been  explained  to  the 
reader,  that  I  was  in  hope  she  would  change  her 
mind,  and  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
secure  the  rooms  requested  for  a  person  unknown 
to  the  proprietors  or  attache's  of  the  hotel. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  279 

The  explanation  seemed  to  satisfy  her.  Turn 
ing  to  me  suddenly,  she  exclaimed : 

"  You  have  not  had  your  dinner,  Lizzie,  and 
must  be  hungry.  I  nearly  forgot  about  it  in  the 
joy  of  seeing  you.  You  must  go  down  to  the 
table  right  away." 

She  pulled  the  bell-rope,  and  a  servant  appearing, 
she  ordered  him  to  give  me  my  dinner.  I  followed 
him  down-stairs,  and  he  led  me  into  the  dining- 
hall,  and  seated  me  at  a  table  in  one  corner  of  the 
room.  I  was  giving  my  order,  when  the  steward 
came  forward  and  gruffly  said : 

"  You  are  in  the  wrong  room." 

"I  was  brought  here  by  the  waiter,"  I  re 
plied. 

"  It  makes  no  difference  ;  I  will  find  you  an 
other  place  where  you  can  eat  your  dinner." 

I  got  up  from  the  table  and  followed  him,  and 
when  outside  of  the  door,  said  to  him  : 

"It  is  very  strange  that  you  should  permit  me 
to  be  seated  at  the  table  in  the  dining-room  only 


280  Behind  the  Scenes. 

for  the  sake  of  ordering  me  to  leave  it  the  next 
moment." 

"  Are  you  not  Mrs.  Clarke's  servant  ? "  was  his 
abrupt  question. 

"  I  am  with  Mrs.  Clarke." 

"  It  is  all  the  same ;  servants  are  not  allowed  to 
eat  in  the  large  dining-room.  Here,  this  way; 
you  must  take  your  dinner  in  the  servants'  hall." 

Hungry  and  humiliated  as  I  was,  I  was  willing 
to  follow  to  any  place  to  get  my  dinner,  for  I  had 
been  riding  all  day,  and  had  not  tasted  a  mouthful 
since  early  morning. 

On  reaching  the  servants'  hall  we  found  the 
door  of  the  room  locked.  The  waiter  left  me 
standing  in  the  passage  while  he  went  to  inform 
the  clerk  of  the  fact. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  obsequious  clerk  came 
blustering  down  the  hall : 

"  Did  you  come  out  of  the  street,  or  from  Mrs. 
Clarke's  room  ? " 

"  From  Mrs.  Clarke's  room,"  I  meekly  answer 


Behind  the  Scenes.  281 

ed.  My  gentle  words  seemed  to  quiet  him,  and 
then  lie  explained : 

"  It  is  after  the  regular  hour  for  dinner.  The 
room  is  locked  up,  and  ^nnie  has  gone  out  with 
the  key." 

My  pride  would  not  let  me  stand  longer  in  the 
hall. 

"  Yery  well,"  I  remarked,  as  I  began  climbing 
the  stairs,  "  I  will  tell  Mrs.  Clarke  that  I  cannot 
get  any  dinner." 

He  looked  after  me,  with  a  scowl  on  his  face  : 

"  You  need  not  put  on  airs  1  I  understand  the 
whole  thing." 

I  said  nothing,  but  continued  to  climb  the 
stairs,  thinking  to  myself:  "Well,  if  you  under 
stand  the  whole  thing,  it  is  strange  that  you 
should  put  the  widow  of  ex-President  Abraham 
Lincoln  in  a  three-cornered  room  in  the  attic  of 
this  miserable  hotel." 

When  I  reached  Mrs.  Lincoln's  rooms,  tears  of 
humiliation  and  vexation  were  in  my  eyes. 


282  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Lizzie  ? "  she  asked. 

u  I  cannot  get  any  dinner." 

"  Cannot  get  any  dinner !  What  do  you 
mean  ? " 

I  then  told  her  of  all  that  had  transpired  below. 

"  The  insolent,  overbearing  people  !  "  she  fierce 
ly  exclaimed.  "  Never  mind,  Lizzie,  you  shall 
have  your  dinner.  Put  on  your  bonnet  and 
shawl." 

" What  for?" 

"What  for!  Why,  we  will  go  out  of  the 
hotel,  and  get  you  something  to  eat  where  they 
know  how  to  behave  decently ; "  and  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  already  was  tying  the  strings  of  her  bonnet 
before  the  glass. 

Her  impulsiveness  alarmed  me. 

"  Surely,  Mrs.  Lincoln,  you  do  not  intend  to 
go  out  on  the  street  to-night  ?  " 

uYes  I  do.  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to 
have  you  starve,  when  we  can  find  something  to 
eat  on  every  corner  ? " 


Behind  the  Scenes.  283 

"  But  yon  forget.  You  are  liere  as  Mrs.  Clarke 
and  not  as  Mrs.  Lincoln.  You  came  alone,  and 
the  people  already  suspect  that  everything  is  not 
right.  If  you  go  outside  of  the  hotel  to-night, 
they  will  accept  the  fact  as  evidence  against 
you." 

"  Nonsense ;  what  do  you  suppose  I  care  for 
what  these  low-bred  people  think  ?  Put  on  your 
things." 

"  No,  Mrs.  Lincoln,  I  shall  not  go  outside  of 
the  hotel  to-night,  for  I  realize  your  situation,  if 
you  do  not.  Mrs.  Lincoln  has  no  reason  to  care 
what  these  people  may  say  about  her  as  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  but  she  should  be  prudent,  and  give  them 
no  opportunity  to  say  anything  about  her  as  Mrs. 
Clarke." 

It  was  with  difficulty  I  could  convince  her  that 
she  should  act  with  caution.  She  was  so  frank 
and  impulsive  that  she  never  once  thought  that 
her  actions  might  be  misconstrued.  It  did  not 
occur  to  her  that  she  might  order  dinner  to  be 


284:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

served  in  my  room,  so  I  went  to  bed  without  a 
mouthful  to  eat. 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Lincoln  knocked  at  my 
door  before  six  o'clock : 

"  Come,  Elizabeth,  get  up,  I  know  you  must 
be  hungry.  Dress  yourself  quickly  and  we  will 
go  out  and  get  some  breakfast.  I  was  unable  to 
sleep  last  night  for  thinking  of  you  being  forced  to 
go  to  bed  without  anything  to  eat." 

I  dressed  myself  as  quickly  as  I  could,  and  to 
gether  we  went  out  and  took  breakfast,  at  a  res 
taurant  on  Broadway,  some  place  between  609 
and  the  St.  Denis  Hotel.  I  do  not  give  the  num 
ber,  as  I  prefer  leaving  it  to  conjecture.  Of  one 
thing  I  am  certain— the  proprietor  of  the  res 
taurant  little  dreamed  who  one  of  his  guests 
was  that  morning. 

After  breakfast  we  walked  up  Broadway,  and 
entering  Union  Square  Park,  took  a  seat  on  one 
of  the  benches  under  the  trees,  watched  the 
children  at  play,  and  talked  over  the  situation. 


Behind  tJie  Scenes.  285 

Mrs.  Lincoln  told  me :  "  Lizzie,  yesterday  morn 
ing  I  called  for  the  Herald  at  the  breakfast  table, 
and  on  looking  over  the  list  of  diamond  brokers 
advertised,  I  selected  the  firm  of  "W.  H.  Bra 
dy  &  Co.,  609  Broadway.  After  breakfast  I 
walked  down  to  the  house,  and  tried  to  sell  them 
a  lot  of  jewelry.  I  gave  my  name  as  Mrs.  Clarke. 
I  first  saw  Mr.  Judd,  a  member  of  the  firm,  a 
very  pleasant  gentleman.  We  were  unable  to 
agree  about  the  price.  He  went  back  into  the 
office,  where  a  stout  gentleman  was  seated  at  the 
desk,  but  I  could  not  hear  what  he  said.  [I  know 
now  what  was  said,  and  so  shall  the  reader,  in  pa 
rentheses.  Mr.  Brady  has  since  told  me  that 
he  remarked  to  Mr.  Judd  that  the  woman  must 
be  crazy  to  ask  such  outrageous  prices,  and  to  get 
rid  of  her  as  soon  as  possible.]  Soon  after  Mr. 
Judd  came  back  to  the  counter,  another  gentle 
man,  Mr.  Keyes,  as  I  have  since  learned,  a  silent 
partner  in  the  house,  entered  the  store.  He  came 
to  the  counter,  and  in  looking  over  my  jewelry 


286  Behind  the  Scenes. 

discovered  my  name  inside  of  one  of  the  rings. 
I  had  forgotten  the  ring,  and  when  I  saw  him 
looking  at  the  name  so  earnestly,  I  snatched  the 
bauble  from  him  and  put  it  into  my  pocket.  I 
hastily  gathered  up  my  jewelry,  and  started  out. 
They  asked  for  my  address,  and  I  left  my  card, 
Mrs.  Clarke,  at  the  St.  Denis  Hotel.  They  are 
to  call  to  see  me  this  forenoon,  when  I  shall  enter 
into  negotiations  with  them." 

Scarcely  had  we  returned  to  the  hotel  when 
Mr.  Keyes  called,  and  Mrs.  Clarke  disclosed  to 
him  that  she  was  Mrs.  Lincoln.  He  was  much 
elated  to  find  his  surmise  correct.  Mrs.  L.  exhib 
ited  to  him  a  large  number  of  shawls,  dresses,  and 
fine  laces,  and  told  him  that  she  was  compelled 
to  sell  them  in  order  to  live.  He  was  an  earnest 
Eepublican,  was  much  affected  by  her  story,  and 
denounced  the  ingratitude  of  the  government  in 
the  severest  terms.  She  complained  to  him  of  the 
treatment  she  had  received  at  the  St.  Denis,  and 
he  advised  her  to  move  to  another  hotel  forthwith. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  287 

She  readily  consented,  and  as  she  wanted  to  be  in 
an  out-of-the-way  place  where  she  would  not  be 
recognized  by  any  of  her  old  friends,  he  recom 
mended  the  Earle  Hotel  in  Canal  street. 

On  the  way  down  to  the  hotel  that  morning 
she  acceded  to  a  suggestion  made  by  me,  and 
supported  by  Mr.  Keyes,  that  she  confide  in  the 
landlord,  and  give  him  her  name  without  register 
ing,  so  as  to  ensure  the  proper  respect.  Unfor 
tunately,  the  Earle  Hotel  was  full,  and  we  had  to 
select  another  place.  We  drove  to  the  Union 
Place  Hotel,  where  we  secured  rooms  for  Mrs. 
Clarke,  Mrs.  Lincoln  changing  her  mind,  deem 
ing  it  would  not  be  prudent  to  disclose  her  real 
name  to  any  one.  After  we  had  become  settled 
in  our  new  quarters,  Messrs.  Keyes  and  Brady 
called  frequently  on  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  held  long 
conferences  with  her.  They  advised  her  to  pursue 
the  course  she  did,  and  were  sanguine  of  success. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  was  very  anxious  to  dispose  of  her 
tilings,  and  return  to  Chicago  as  quickly  and 


288  Behind  the  Scenes. 

quietly  as  possible ;  but  they  presented  the  case  in 
a  different  light,  and,  I  regret  to  say,  she  was 
guided  by  their  counsel.  "  Pooh,"  said  Mr. 
Brady,  "  place  your  affairs  in  our  hands,  and  we 
will  raise  you  at  least  $100,000  in  a  few  weeks. 
The  people  will  not  permit  the  widow  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  to  suffer ;  they  will  come  to  her  rescue 
when  they  know  she  is  in  want." 

The  argument  seemed  plausible,  and  Mrs.  Lin 
coln  quietly  acceded  to  the  proposals  of  Keyes 
and  Brady. 

"We  remained  quietly  at  the  Union  Place  Hotel 
for  a  few  days.  On  Sunday  Mrs.  Lincoln  accept 
ed  the  use  of  a  private  carriage,  and  accompanied 
by  me,  she  drove  out  to  Central  Park.  "We  did 
not  enjoy  the  ride  much,  as  the  carriage  was  a 
close  one,  and  we  could  not  throw  open  the  win 
dow  for  fear  of  being  recognized  by  some  one  of 
the  many  thousands  in  the  Park.  Mrs.  Lincoln 
wore  a  heavy  veil  so  as  to  more  effectually  conceal 
her  face.  We  came  near  being  run  into,  and  we 


Behind  the  Scenes.  289 

had  a  spasm  of  alarm,  for  an  accident  would  have 
exposed  us  to  public  gaze,  and  of  course  the  mas 
querade  would  have  been  at  an  end.  On  Tues 
day  I  hunted  up  a  number  of  dealers  in  second 
hand  clothing,  and  had  them  call  at  the  hotel 
by  appointment.  Mrs.  Lincoln  soon  discover 
ed  that  they  were  hard  people  to  drive  a  bargain 
with,  so  on  Thursday  we  got  into  a  close  car 
riage,  taking  a  bundle  of  dresses  and  shawls  with 
us,  and  drove  to  a  number  of  stores  on  Seventh 
Avenue,  where  an  attempt  was  made  to  dispose 
of  a  portion  of  the  wardrobe.  The  dealers  wanted 
the  goods  for  little  or  nothing,  and  we  found  it  a 
hard  matter  to  drive  a  bargain  with  them.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  met  the  dealers  squarely,  but  all  of  her 
tact  and  shrewdness  failed  to  accomplish  much. 
I  do  not  care  to  dwell  upon  this  portion  of  my 
story.  Let  it  answer  to  say,  that  we  returned  to 
the  hotel  more  disgusted  than  ever  with  the  busi 
ness  in  which  we  were  engaged.  There  was  much 

curiosity  at   the  hotel  in  relation  to  us,  as  our 
13 


290  Behind  the  Scenes. 

movements  were  watched,  and  we  were  regarded 
with  suspicion.  Our  trunks  in  the  main  hall 
below  were  examined  daily,  and  curiosity  was 
more  keenly  excited  when  the  argus-eyed  report 
ers  for  the  press  traced  Mrs.  Lincoln's  name  on 
the  cover  of  one  of  her  trunks.  The  letters  had 
been  rubbed  out,  but  the  faint  outlines  remained, 
and  these  outlines  only  served  to  stimulate  curi 
osity.  Messrs.  Keyes  and  Brady  called  often, 
and  they  made  Mrs.  Lincoln  believe  that,  if  she 
would  write  certain  letters  for  them  to  show  to 
prominent  politicians,  they  could  raise  a  large 
sum  of  money  for  her.  They  argued  that  the 
Republican  party  would  never  permit  it  to  be 
said  that  the  wife  of  Abraham  Lincoln  was  in 
want ;  that  the  leaders  of  the  party  would  make 
heavy  advances  rather  than  have  it  published  to 
the  world  that  Mrs.  Lincoln's  poverty  compelled 
her  to  sell  her  wardrobe.  Mrs.  L.'s  wants  were 
urgent,  as  she  had  to  borrow  $600  from  .Keyes 
and  Brady,  and  she  was  willing  to  adopt  any 


Behind  the  Scenes.  291 

scheme  which  promised  to  place  a  good  bank  ac 
count  to  her  credit.  At  different  times  in  her 
room  at  the  Union  Place  Hotel  she  wrote  the 
following  letters: 

"CHICAGO,  Sept.  18,  1867. 
"  MR.    BRADY,    Commission    Broker,    No.  609 

Broadway,  New  York : 

"I  have  this  day  sent  to  you  personal  pro 
perty,  which  I  am  compelled  to  part  with,  and 
which  you  will  find  of  considerable  value.  The 
articles  consist  of  four  camels'  hair  shawls,  one 
lace  dress  and  shawl,  a  parasol  cover,  a  diamond 
ring,  two  dress  patterns,  some  furs,  etc. 

"  Please  have  them  appraised,  and  confer  by 
letter  with  me.  Yery  respectfully, 

"MRS.  LINCOLN." 


"  CHICAGO, 


"  MR.  BRADY,  No.  609  Broadway,  N.  Y.  City  : 

*         *         *   DEAR  SIR  :— The  articles 

I  am  sending  you  to  dispose  of  were  gifts  of  dear 


292  Behind  the  Scenes. 

friends,  which  only  urgent  necessity  compels  me 
to  part  with,  and  I  am  especially  anxious  that 
they  shall  not  be  sacrificed. 

"  The  circumstances  are  peculiar,  and  painfully 
embarrassing;  therefore  I  hope  you  will  endea 
vor  to  realize  as  much  as  possible  for  them. 
Hoping  to  hear  from  you,  I  remain,  very  respect- 
fully, 

"MRS.  A.  LINCOLN." 

"Sept.  25,  1867. 

""W.  H.  BEADY,  ESQ.  :— My  great,  great  sor 
row  and  loss  have  made  me  painfully  sensi 
tive,  but  as  my  feelings  and  pecuniary  comforts 
were  never  regarded  or  even  recognized  in  the 
midst  of  my  overwhelming  bereavement — now 
that  I  am  pressed  in  a  most  startling  manner  for 
means  of  subsistence,  I  do  not  know  why  I 
should  shrink  from  an  opportunity  of  improving 
my  trying  position. 

"  Being  assured  that  all  you  do  will  be  appro- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  293 

priately  executed,  and  in  a  manner  that  will  not 
startle  me  very  greatly,  and  excite  as  little  com 
ment  as  possible,  again  I  shall  leave  all  in  your 
hands. 

"  I  am  passing  through  a  very  painful  ordeal, 
which  the  country,  in  remembrance  of  my  noble 
and  devoted  husband,  should  have  spared  me. 

"  I  remain,  with  great  respect,  very  truly, 

"  MBS.  LINCOLN. 

"P. S. — As  you  mention  that  my  goods  have 
been  valued  at  over  $24,000,  I  will  be  willing  to 
make  a  reduction  of  $8,000,  and  relinquish  them 
for  $16,000.  If  this  is  not  accomplished,  I  will 
continue  to  sell  and  -advertise  largely  until  every 
article  is  sold. 

"  I  must  have  means  to  live,  at  least  in  a 
medium  comfortable  state. 

"M.  L." 

The  letters  are  dated  Chicago,  and  addressed 
to  Mr.  Brady,  though  every  one  of  them  was 


294:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

written  in  New  York ;  for  when  Mrs.  L.  left 
the  West  for  the  East,  she  had  settled  upon  no 
definite  plan  of  action.  Mr.  Brady  proposed 
to  show  the  letters  to  certain  politicians,  and  ask 
for  money  on  a  threat  to  publish  them  if  his  de 
mands,  as  Mrs.  Lincoln's  agent,  were  not  com 
plied  with.  When  writing  the  letters  I  stood  at 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  elbow,  and  suggested  that  they 
be  couched  in  the  mildest  language  possible. 

"  Never  mind,  Lizzie,"  she  said ;  "  anything  to 
raise  the  wind.  One  might  as  well  be  killed  for 
a  sheep  as  a  lamb." 

This  latter  expression  was  a  favorite  one  of 
hers  ;  she  meaning  by  it,  that  if  one  must  be 
punished  for  an  act,  such  as  theft  for  instance, 
that  the  punishment  would  be  no  more  severe  if 
a  sheep  were  taken  instead  of  a  lamb. 

Mr.  Brady  exhibited  the  letters  quite  freely, 
but  the  parties  to  whom  they  were  shown  refused 
to  make  any  advances.  Meanwhile  our  stay  at 
the  Union  Place  Hotel  excited  so  much  curiosity, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  295 

that  a  sudden  movement  was  rendered  expedient 
to  avoid  discovery.  We  sent  the  large  trunks 
to  609  Broadway,  packed  the  smaller  ones,  paid 
our  bills  at  the  hotel,  and  one  morning  hastily 
departed  for  the  country,  where  we  remained 
three  days.  The  movement  was  successful.  The 
keen-eyed  reporters  for  the  daily  papers  were 
thrown  oif  the  scent,  and  when  we  returned  to 
the  city  we  took  rooms  at  the  Brandreth  House, 
where  Mrs.  Lincoln  registered  as  "  Mrs.  Morris." 
I  had  desired  her  to  go  to  the  Metropolitan  Ho 
tel,  and  confide  in  the  proprietors,  as  the  Messrs. 
Leland  had  always  been  very  kind  to  her,  treat 
ing  her  with  distinguished  courtesy  whenever 
she  was  their  guest ;  but  this  she  refused  to  do. 

Several  days  passed,  and  Messrs.  Brady  and 
Keyes  were  forced  to  acknowledge  that  their 
scheme  was  a  failure.  The  letters  had  been 
shown  to  various  parties,  but  every  one  declined 
to  act.  Aside  from  a  few  dresses  sold  at  small 
prices  to  second-hand  dealers,  Mrs.  Lincoln's 


296  Behind  the  Scenes. 

wardrobe  was  still  in  her  possession.  Her  visit 
to  JSTew  York  had  proved  disastrous,  and  she  was 
goaded  into  more  desperate  measures.  Money 
she  must  have,  and  to  obtain  it  she  proposed  to 
play  a  bolder  game.  She  gave  Mr.  Brady  per 
mission  to  place  her  wardrobe  on  exhibition  for 
sale,  and  authorized  him  to  publish  the  letters  in 
the  World. 

After  coming  to  this  determination,  she  packed 
her  trunks  to  return  to  Chicago.  I  accompanied 
her  to  the  depot,  and  told  her  good-by,  on  the 
very  morning  that  the  letters  appeared  in  the 
World.  Mrs.  Lincoln  wrote  me  the  incidents  of 
the  journey,  and  the  letter  describes  the  story 
more  graphically  than  I  could  hope  to  do.  I 
suppress  many  passages,  as  they  are  of  too  confi 
dential  a  nature  to  be  given  to  the  public  : 

"  CHICAGO,  October  6th. 

"  MY  DEAJR  LIZZIE  :  — My  ink  is  like  myself  and 
my  spirits  failing,  so  I  write  you  to-day  with  a 


Behind  the  Scenes.  297 

pencil.  I  had  a  solitary  ride  to  this  place,  as  you 
may  imagine,  varied  by  one  or  two  amusing  inci 
dents.  I  found,  after  you  left  me,  I  could  not  con 
tinue  in  the  car  in  which  you  left  me,  owing 'to 
every  seat's  berth  being  engaged ;  so,  being  simple 
Mrs.  Clarke,  I  had  to  eat  '  humble-pie '  in  a  car 
less  commodious.  My  thoughts  were  too  much 
with  my  '  dry  goods  and  interests '  at  609  Broad 
way,  to  care  much  for  my  surroundings,  as  un 
comfortable  as  they  were.  In  front  of  me  sat 
a  middle-aged,  gray-haired,  respectable-looking 
gentleman,  who,  for  the  whole  morning,  had  the 
page  of  the  World  before  him  which  contained 
my  letters  and  business  concerns.  About  four 
hours  before  arriving  at  Chicago,  a  consequential- 
looking  man,  of  formidable  size,  seated  himself 
by  him,  and  it  appears  they  were  entirely  un 
known  to  each  other.  The  well-fed  looking  in 
dividual  opened  the  conversation  with  the  man 
who-  had  read  the  World  so  attentively,  and  the 

conversation  soon  grew  warm  and  earnest.      The 
13* 


298  Behind  the  Scenes. 

war  and  its  devastation  engaged  them.  The 
bluffy  individual,  doubtless  a  Republican  who  had 
pocketed  his  many  thousands,  spoke  of  the  widows 
of  the  land,  made  so  by  the  war.  My  reading 
man  remarked  to  him  : 

"  '  Are  you  aware  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  is  in  in 
digent  circumstances,  and  has  to  sell  her  clothing 
and  jewelry  to  gain  means  to  make  life  more  en 
durable?' 

"  The  well-conditioned  man  replied  :  ( I  do  not 
blame  her  for  selling  her  clothing,  if  she  wishes  it. 
I  suppose  when  sold  she  will  convert  the  proceeds 
into  five-twenties  to  enable  her  to  have  means  to 
be  buried.' 

"  The  World  man  turned  towards  him  with  a 
searching  glance,  and  replied,  with  the  haughtiest 
manner  :  '  That  woman  is  not  dead  yet.' 

"  The  discomfited  individual  looked  down,  never 
spoke  another  word,  and  in  half  an  hour  left  his 
seat,  and  did  not  return. 

"  I  give  you  word  for  word  as  the  conversation 


Behind  the  Scenes.  299 

occurred.  May  it  be  found  through  the  execu 
tion  of  my  friends,  Messrs  Brady  and  Keyes,  that 
'  that  woman  is  not  yet  dead,'  and  being  alive, 
she  speaketh  and  gaineth  valuable  hearers.  Such 
is  life  !  Those  who  have  been  injured,  how  gladly 
the  injurer  would  consign  them  to  mother  earth 
and  forgetfulness !  Hoping  I  should  not  be  re 
cognized  at  Fort  Wayne,  I  thought  I  would  get 
out  at  dinner  for  a  cup  of  tea.  *  *  *  will 
show  you  what  a  creature  of  fate  I  am,  as  miser 
able  as  it  sometimes  is.  I  went  into  the  dining- 
room  alone,  and  was  ushered  up  to  the  table, 
where,  at  its  head,  sat  a  very  elegant-looking 
gentleman — at  his  side  a  middle-aged  lady.  My 
black  veil  was  doubled  over  my  face.  I  had 
taken  my  seat  next  to  him — he  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  I  at  his  left  hand.  I  immediately/*^ 
a  pair  of  eyes  was  gazing  at  me.  I  looked 
him  full  in  the  face,  and  the  glance  was  earnestly 
returned.  I  sipped  my  water,  and  said  :  '  Mr.  S., 
is  this  indeed  you  ? '  His  face  was  as  pale  as  the 


300  Behind  the  Scenes. 

table-cloth.  We  entered  into  conversation,  when 
I  asked  him  how  long  since  he  had  left  Chicago. 
He  replied,  '  Two  weeks  since.'  He  said,  '  How 
strange  you  should  be  on  the  train  and  I  not 
know  it ! ' 

"  As  soon  as  I  could  escape  from  the  table,  I  did 
so  by  saying,  '  I  must  secure  a  cup  of  tea  for  a 
lady  friend  with  me  who  has  a  head-ache.'  I 
had  scarcely  returned  to  the  car,  when  he  entered 
it  with  a  cup  of  tea  borne  by  his  own  aristocratic 
hands.  I  was  a  good  deal  annoyed  by  seeing 
him,  and  he  was  so  agitated  that  he  spilled  half 
of  the  cup  over  my  elegantly  gloved  hands.  He 
looked  very  sad,  and  I  fancied  609  Broadway 
occupied  his  thoughts.  I  apologized  for  the  ab 
sent  lady  who  wished  the  cup,  by  saying  that 
*  in  my  absence  she  had  slipped  out  for  it.'  His 
heart  was  in  his  eyes,  notwithstanding  my  veiled 
face.  Pity  for  me,  I  fear,  has  something  to  do 
with  all  this.  I  never  saw  his  manner  so  gentle 
and  sad.  This  was  nearly  evening,  and  I  did  not 


Behind  the  Scenes.  301 

see  him  again,  as  he  returned  to  the  lady,  who 
was  his  sister-in-law  from  the  East.  * 
What  evil  spirit  possessed  me  to  go  out  and  get 
that  cup  of  tea  ?  When  he  left  me,  woman-like 
I  tossed  the  cup  of  tea  out  of  the  window,  and 
tucked  my  head  down  and  shed  hitter  tears. 
At  the  depot  my  darling  little  Taddie  was  wait 
ing  for  me,  and  his  voice  never  sounded  so  sweet. 
*  #  #  ^£y  dear  ;Lizzie?  do  visit  Mr.  Brady 
each  morning  at  nine  o'clock,  and  urge  them  all 
you  can.  I  see  by  the  papers  Stewart  has  re 
turned.  To-morrow  I  will  send  the  invoice  of 
goods,  which  please  to  not  give  up.  How  much 
I  miss  you,  tongue  cannot  tell.  Forget  my  fright 
and  nervousness  of  the  evening  before.  Of 
course  you  were  as  innocent  as  a  child  in  all  you 
did.  I  consider  you  my  best  living  friend,  and 
I  am  struggling  to  be  enabled  some  day  to  re 
pay  you.  Write  me  often,  as  you  promised. 
"  Always  truly  yours, 
"M.  L." 


302  Behind  the  Scenes. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  dwell  upon  the 
public  history  of  Mrs.  Lincoln's  unfortunate 
venture.  The  question  has  been  discussed  in  all 
the  newspapers  of  the  land,  and  these  discussions 
are  so  recent  that  it  would  be  useless  to  intro 
duce  them  in  these  pages,  even  if  I  had  an  incli 
nation  to  do  so.  The  following,  from  the  New 
York  Evening  Express,  briefly  tells  the  story : 

"  The  attraction  for  ladies,  and  the  curious  and 
speculative  of  the  other  sex  in  this  city,  just  now, 
is  the  grand  exposition  of  Lincoln  dresses  at  the 
office  of  Mr.  Brady,  on  Broadway,  a  few  doors 
south  of  Houston  street.  The  publicity  given  to 
the  articles  on  exhibition  and  for  sale  has  excited 
the  public  curiosity,  and  hundreds  of  people, 
principally  women  with  considerable  leisure 
moments  at  disposal,  daily  throng  the  rooms 
of  Mr.  Brady,  and  give  himself  and  his  shop- 
woman  more  to  do  than  either  bargained  for, 
when  a  lady,  with  face  concealed  with  a  veil, 
called  and  arranged  for  the  sale  of  the  supera- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  303 

bundant  clothing  of  a  distinguished  and  titled, 
but  nameless  lady.  Twenty-five  dresses,  folded 
or  tossed  about  by  frequent  examinations,  lie  ex 
posed  iipon  a  closed  piano,  and  upon  a  lounge ; 
shawls  rich  and  rare  are  displayed  upon  the 
backs  of  chairs,  but  the  more  exacting  obtain  a 
better  view  and  closer  inspection  by  the  lady 
attendant  throwing  them  occasionally  upon  her 
shoulders,  just  to  oblige,  so  that  their  appearance 
on  promenade  might  be  seen  and  admired. 
Furs,  laces,  and  jewelry  are  in  a  glass  case,  but 
the  'four  thousand  dollars  in  gold'  point  outfit 
is  kept  in  a  paste-board  box,  and  only  shown  on 
special  request. 

"  The  feeling  of  the  majority  of  visitors  is  ad 
verse  to  the  course  Mrs.  Lincoln  has  thought 
proper  to  pursue,  and  the  criticisms  are  as  severe 
as  the  cavillings  are  persistent  at  the  quality  of 
some  of  the  dresses.  These  latter  are  labelled  at 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  own  estimate,  and  prices  range 
from  $25  to  $75 — about  50  per  cent,  less  than 


304:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

cost.  Some  of  them,  if  not  worn  long,  have  been, 
worn  much ;  they  are  jagged  under  the  arms  and 
at  the  bottom  of  the  skirt,  stains  are  on  the 
lining,  and  other  objections  present  themselves 
to  those  who  oscillate  between  the  dresses  and 
dollars,  i  notwithstanding  they  have  been  worn 
by  Madam  Lincoln,'  as  a  lady  who  looked  from 
behind  a  pair  of  gold  spectacles  remarked. 
Other  dresses,  however,  have  scarcely  been  worn 
— one,  perhaps,  while  Mrs.  Lincoln  sat  for  her 
picture,  and  from  one  the  basting  threads  had 
not  yet  been  removed.  The  general  testimony 
is  that  the  wearing  apparel  is  high-priced,  and 
some  of  the  examiners  say  that  the  cost-figures 
must  have  been  put  on  by  the  dress-makers ;  or, 
if  such  was  not  the  case,  that  gold  was  250  when 
they  were  purchased,  and  is  now  but  140 — so  that 
a  dress  for  which  $150  was  paid  at  the  rate  of 
high  figures  cannot  be  called  cheap  at  half  that 
sum,  after  it  has  been  worn  considerable,  and  per 
haps  passed  out  of  fashion.  The  peculiarity  of 


Behind  the  Scenes.  305 

the  dresses  is  that  the  most  of  them  are  cut  low- 
necked — a  taste  which  some  ladies  attribute  to 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  appreciation  of  her  own  bust. 

"  On  Saturday  last  an  offer  was  made  for  all 
the  dresses.  The  figure  named  was  less  than  the 
aggregate  estimate  placed  on  them.  Mr.  Brady, 
however,  having  no  discretionary  power,  he  de 
clined  to  close  the  bargain,  but  notified  Mrs. 
Lincoln  by  mail.  Of  course,  as  yet,  no  reply  has 
been  received.  Mrs  L.  desires  that  the  auction 
should  be  deferred  till  the  31st  of  the  present 
month,  and  efforts  made  to  dispose  of  the  articles 
at  private  sale  up  to  that  time. 

"  A  Mrs.  C called  on  Mr.  Brady  this  morn 
ing,  and  examined  minutely  each  shawl.  Before 
leaving  the  lady  said  that,  at  the  time  when  there 
was  a  hesitancy  about  the  President  issuing  the 
Emancipation  Proclamation,  she  sent  to  Mrs. 
Lincoln  an  ashes-of-rose  shawl,  which  was  manu 
factured  in  China,  forwarded  to  France,  and 
thence  to  Mrs.  C ,  in  New  York.  The 


306  Behind  the  Scenes. 

shawl,  the  lady  remarked,  was  a  very  handsome 
one,  and  should  it  come  into  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Brady  to  be  sold,  would  like  to  be  made  aware 
of  the  fact,  so  as  to  obtain  possession  again.  Mr. 
Brady  promised  to  acquaint  the  ashes-of-rose 
donor,  if  the  prized  article  should  be  among 
the  two  trunks  of  goods  now  on  the  way  from 
Chicago." 

So  many  erroneous  reports  were  circulated,  that 
I  made  a  correct  statement  to  one  of  the  editors 
of  the  New  York  Evening  News.  The  article 
based  upon-  the  memoranda  furnished  by  me  ap 
peared  in  the  News  of  Oct.  12,  186T.  I  repro 
duce  a  portion  of  it  in  this  connection : 

"  Mrs.  Lincoln  feels  sorely  aggrieved  at  many  of 
the  harsh  criticisms  that  have  been  passed  upon 
her  for  travelling  incognito.  She  claims  that  she 
adopted  this  course  from  motives  of  delicacy, 
desiring  to  avoid  publicity.  While  here,  she 
spoke  to  but  two  former  acquaintances,  and  these 
two  gentlemen  whom  she  met  on  Broadway. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  307 

Hundreds  passed  her  who  had  courted  her  good 
graces  when  she  reigned  supreme  at  the  White 
House,  but  there  was  no  recognition.  It  was  not 
because  she  had  changed  much  in  personal  ap 
pearance,  but  was  merely  owing  to  the  heavy 
crape  veil  that  hid  her  features  from  view. 

"  She  seeks  to  defend  her  course  while  in  this 
city — and  with  much  force,  too.  Adverting  to 
the  fact  that  the  Empress  of  France  frequently 
disposes  of  her  cast-off  wardrobe,  and  publicly 
too,  without  being  subjected  to  any  unkind  re 
marks  regarding  its  propriety,  she  claims  the 
same  immunity  here  as  is  accorded  in  Paris  to 
Eugenie.  As  regards  her  obscurity  while  in  this 
city,  she  says  that  foreigners  of  note  and  position 
frequently  come  to  our  stores,  and  under  assumed 
names  travel  from  point  to  point  throughout  our 
vast  domain,  to  avoid  recognition  and  the  incon 
veniences  resulting  from  being  known,  though  it 
even  be  in  the  form  of  honors.  For  herself  she 
regards  quiet  preferable  to  ostentatious  show, 


308  Behind  the  Scenes. 

which  would  have  cost  her  much  indirectly,  if  not 
directly ;  and  this  she  felt  herself  unable  to  bear, 
according  to  the  measure  of  her  present  state  of 
finances. 

"  In  a  recent  letter  to  her  bosom  friend,  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Keckley,  Mrs.  Lincoln  pathetically  re 
marks,  '  Elizabeth,  if  evil  come  from  this,  pray 
for  my  deliverance,  as  I  did  it  for  the  best.'  This 
referred  to  her  action  in  placing  her  personal 
effects  before  the  public  for  sale,  and  to  the  harsh 
remarks  that  have  been  made  thereon  by  some 
whom  she  had  formerly  regarded  as  her  friends. 

"As  to  the  articles  which  belonged  to  Mr. 
Lincoln,  they  can  all  be  accounted  for  in  a  man 
ner  satisfactory  even  to  an  over-critical  public. 
During  the  time  Mr.  Lincoln  wTas  in  office  he  was 
the  recipient  of  several  canes.  After  his  death 
one  was  given  to  the  Hon.  Charles  Sumner ; 
another  to  Fred.  Douglass ;  another  to  the  Eev.  H. 
H.  Garnet  of  this  city,  and  another  to  Mr.  "Wm. 
Slade,  the  present  steward  of  the  White  House, 


Behind  the  Scenes.  309 

who,  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  lifetime,  was  his  messenger. 
This  gentleman  also  received  some  of  Mr.  Lin 
coln's  apparel,  among  which  was  his  heavy  gray 
shawl.  Several  other  of  the  messengers  employed 
about  the  White  House  came  in  for  a  share  of  the 
deceased  President's  effects. 

"  The  shepherd  plaid  shawl  which  Mr.  Lincoln 
wore  during  the  milder  weather,  and  which  was 
rendered  somewhat  memorable  as  forming  part 
of  his  famous  disguise,  together  with  the  Scotch 
cap,  when  he  wended  his  way  secretly  to  the 
Capitol  to  be  inaugurated  as  President,  was  given 
to  Dr.  Abbot,  of  Canada,  who  had  been  one  of 
his  warmest  friends.  During  the  war  this  gentle 
man,  as  a  surgeon  in  the  United  States  army, 
was  in  Washington  in  charge  of  a  hospital,  and 
thus  became  acquainted  with  the  head  of  the 
nation. 

"  His  watch,  his  penknife,  his  gold  pencil,  and  his 
glasses  are  now  in  possession  of  his  son  Robert. 
Nearly  all  else  than  these  few  things  have  passed 


310  Behind  the  Scenes. 

out  of  the  family,  as  Mrs.  Lincoln  did  not  wish  to 
retain  them.  But  all  were  freely  given  away, 
and  not  an  article  was  parted  with  for  money. 

"  The  Rev.  Dr.  Gnrley  of  Washington  was  the 
spiritual  adviser  of  the  President  and  his  family. 
They  attended  his  church.  When  little  '  Willie ' 
died,  he  officiated  at  the  funeral.  He  was  a  most 
intimate  friend  of  the  family,  and  when  Mr. 
Lincoln  lay  upon  his  death-bed  Mr.  Gurley  was 
by  his  side.  He,  as  his  clergyman,  performed  the 
funeral  rites  upon  the  body  of  the  deceased  Presi 
dent,  when  it  lay  cold  in  death  at  the  City  of 
Washington.  He  received  the  hat  worn  last  by 
Mr.  Lincoln,  as  we  have  before  stated,  and  it  is 
still  retained  by  him. 

"  The  dress  that  was  worn  by  Mrs.  Lincoln  on 
the  night  of  the  assassination  was  presented  to 
Mrs.  Wm.  Slade.  It  is  a  black  silk  with  a  little 
white  stripe.  Most  of  the  other  articles  that 
adorned  Mrs.  Lincoln  on  that  fatal  night  became 
the  property  of  Mrs.  Keckley.  She  has  the  most 


Behind  the  Scenes.  311 

of  them  carefully  stowed  away,  and  intends  keep 
ing  them  during  her  life  as  mementos  of  a  mourn 
ful  event.  The  principal  articles  among  these 
are  the  earrings,  the  bonnet,  and  the  velvet  cloak. 
The  writer  of  this  saw  the  latter  on  Thursday. 
It  bears  most  palpable  marks  of  the  assassination, 
being  completely  bespattered  with  blood,  that  has 
dried  upon  its  surface,  and  which  can  never  be 
removed. 

"  A  few  words  as  regard  the  disposition  and 
habits  of  Mrs.  Lincoln.  She  is  no  longer  the 
sprightly  body  she  was  when  her  very  presence 
illumed  the  White  House  with  gayety.  Now 
she  is  sad  and  sedate,  seeking  seclusion,  and  main 
taining  communication  merely  with  her  most  in 
timate  personal  friends.  The  most  of  her  time 
she  devotes  to  instructive  reading  within  the 
walls  of  her  boudoir.  Laying  her  book  aside 
spasmodically,  she  places  her  hand  upon  her 
forehead,  as  if  ruminating  upon  something  mo 
mentous.  Then  her  hand  wanders  amid  her 


312  Behind  the  Scenes. 

heavy  tresses,  while  she  ponders  for  but  a  few 
seconds — then,  by  a  sudden  start,  she  approaches 
her  writing-stand,  seizes  a  pen,  and  indites  a  few 
hasty  lines  to  some  trusty  friend,  upon  the  trou 
bles  that  weigh  so  heavily  upon  her.  Speedily  it 
is  sent  to  the  post-office;  but,  hardly  has  the 
mail  departed  from  the  city  before  she  regrets 
her  hasty  letter,  and  would  give  much  to  recall 
it.  But,  too  late,  it  is  gone,  and  probably  the 
secrets  it  contains  are  not  confidentially  kept  by 

the  party  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  and  soon  it 

• 

furnishes  inexhaustible  material  for  gossip-loving 
people. 

"  As  some  citizens  have  expressed  themselves  de 
sirous  of  aiding  Mrs.  Lincoln,  a  subscription-book 
was  opened  at  the  office  of  her  agent,  Mr.  Brady, 
No.  609  Broadway,  this  morning.  There  is  no 
limitation  as  to  the  amount  which  may  be  given, 
though  there  was  a  proposition  that  a  dollar 
should  be  contributed  by  each  person  who  came 
forward  to  inspect  the  goods.  Had  each  person 


Behind  the  Scenes.  313 

who  handled  these  articles  given  this  sum,  a 
handsome  amount  would  already  have  been  real 
ized. 

"  The  colored  people  are  moving  in  this  matter. 
They  intend  to  take  up  collections  in  their 
churches  for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Lincoln.  They 
are  enthusiastic,  and  a  trifle  from  every  African 
in  this  city  would,  in  the  aggregate,  swell  into  an 
immense  sum,  which  would  be  doubly  acceptable 
to  Mrs.  Lincoln.  It  would  satisfy  her  that  the 
black  people  still  have  the  memory  of  her  de 
ceased  husband  fresh  in  their  minds. 

"  The  goods  still  remain  exposed  to  sale,  but 
it  is  now  announced  that  they  will  be  sold 
at  public  auction  on  the  30th  of  this  month, 
unless  they  be  disposed  of  before  that  at  private 
sale." 

It  is  stated  in  the  article  that  the  "  colored 
people  are  moving  in  this  matter."  The  colored 
people  were  surprised  to  hear  of  Mrs.  Lincoln's 

poverty,  and  the  news  of  her  distress  called  forth 
14 


314  Behind  the  Scenes. 

strong  sympathy  from  their  warm,  generous  hearts. 
Rev.  H.  H.  Garnet,  of  New  York  City,  and  Mr. 
Frederick  Douglass,  of  Rochester,  E".  Y.,  proposed 
to  lecture  in  behalf  of  the  widow  of  the  lamented 
President,  and  schemes  were  on  foot  to  raise  a 
large  sum  of  money  by  contribution.  The  co 
lored  people  recognized  Abraham  Lincoln  as  their 
great  friend,  and  they  were  anxious  to  show  their 
kind  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  family  in  some 
way  more  earnest  and  substantial  than  simple 
words.  I  wrote  Mrs.  Lincoln  what  we  'proposed 
to  do,  and  she  promptly  replied,  declining  to  re 
ceive  aid  from  the  colored  people.  I  showed  her 
letter  to  Mr.  Garnet  and  Mr.  Douglass,  and  the 
whole  project  was  at  once  abandoned.  She  after 
wards  consented  to  receive  contributions  from 
my  people,  but  as  the  services  of  Messrs.  Dou 
glass,  Garnet,  and  others  had  been  refused  when 
first  offered,  they  declined  to  take  an  active 
'part  in  the  scheme;  so  nothing  was  ever  done. 
The  following  letters  were  written  before  Mrs. 


Behind  the  Scenes.  315 

Lincoln  declined  to  receive  aid  from  the  colored 
people : 

"  183  BLEECKEK  ST.,  NEW  YORK,  October  16th,  1867. 
"J.  II.  BRADY,  ESQ.:— 

"  I  have  just  received  your  favor,  together  with 
the  circulars.  I  will  do  all  that  lies  in  my  power, 
but  I  fear  that  will  not  be  as  much  as  you  antici 
pate.  I  think,  however,  that  a  contribution  from 
the  colored  people  of  New  York  will  be  worth 
something  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  and  likely 
that  will  be  the  most  that  will  be  accomplished 
in  the  undertaking.  I  am  thoroughly  with  you 
in  the  work,  although  but  little  may  be  done. 
"  I  am  truly  yours, 

"HENRY  HIGHLAND  GARNET. 
"  P.  S. — I  think  it  would  be  well  if  you  would 
drop  a  line  to  Mr.  Frederick  Douglass,  at  Roches 
ter,  New  York. 

"H.  H.  G." 


316  Behind  the  Scenes. 

"ROCHESTER,  Oct.  18,  1867. 

"My  DEAK,  MKS.  KECKLEY: — You  judge  me 
rightly — I  am  willing  to  do  what  I  can  to  place 
the  widow  of  our  martyr  President  in  the  affluent 
position  which  her  relation  to  that  good  man  and 
to  the  country  entitles  her  to.  But  I  doubt  the 
wisdom  of  getting  up  a  series  of  lectures  for  that 
purpose  ;  that  is  just  the  last  thing  that  should 
be  done.  Still,  if  the  thing  is  done,  it  should  be 
done  on  a  grand  scale.  The  best  speakers  in  the 
country  should  be  secured  for  the  purpose.  You 
should  not  place  me  at  the  head  nor  at  the  foot  of 
the  list,  but  sandwich  me  between,  for  thus  out 
of  the  way,  it  would  not  give  color  to  the  idea.  I 
am  to  speak  in  Newark  on  Wednesday  evening 
next,  and  will  endeavor  to  see  you  on  the  subject. 
Of  course,  if  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  ask,  I 
would  gladly  see  Mrs.  Lincoln,  if  this  could  be 
done  in  a  quiet  way  without  the  reporters  getting 
hold  of  it,  and  using  it  in  some  way  to  the  preju 
dice  of  that  already  much  abused  lady.  As  I 


Behind  the  Scenes.  317 

shall  see  you  soon,  there  is  less  reason  to  write 
you  at  length. 

"I  am,  dear  madam, 

"  "With  high  respect, 
"  Very  truly  yours, 

"  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS.  " 

"POTTSVILLE,  Oct.  29,  1867. 

"  MY  DEAR  MRS.  KECKLEY  : — You  know  the  drift 
of  my  views  concerning  the  subscription  for  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  Yet  I  wish  to  place  them  more  dis 
tinctly  before  you,  so  that,  if  you  have  occasion  to 
refer  to  me  in  connection  with  the  matter,  you 
can  do  so  with  accuracy  and  certainty. 

"It  is  due  Mrs.  Lincoln  that  she  should  be  in 
demnified,  as  far  as  money  can  do  so,  for  the  loss 
of  her  beloved  husband.  Honor,  gratitude,  and 
a  manly  sympathy,  all  say  yes  to  this.  I  am  will 
ing  to  go  farther  than  this,  and  say  that  Mrs. 
Lincoln  herself  should  be  the  judge  of  the  amount 
which  shall  be  deemed  sufficient,  believing  that 


318  Behind  the  Scenes. 

she  would  not  transcend  reasonable  limits. 
The  obligation  resting  on  the  nation  at  large  is 
great  and  increasing,  but  especially  does  it  be 
come  colored  men  to  recognize  that  obligation. 
It  was  the  hand  of  Abraham  Lincoln  that  broke 
the  fetters  of  our  enslaved  people,  and  let  them 
out  of  the  house  of  bondage.  When  he  was  slain, 
our  great  benefactor  fell,  and  left  his  wife  and 
children  to  the  care  of  those  for  whom  he  gave  up 
all.  Shame  on  the  man  or  woman  who,  under  such 
circumstances,  would  grudge  a  few  paltry  dollars, 
to  smooth  the  pathway  of  such  a  widow  !  All 
this,  and  more,  I  feel  and  believe.  But  such  is 
the  condition  of  this  question,  owing  to  party 
feeling,  and  personal  animosities  now  mixed  up 
with  it,  that  we  are  compelled  to  consider  these 
in  the  effort  we  are  making  to  obtain  subscrip 
tions. 

"  Now,  about  the  meeting  in  Cooper  Institute  ; 
I  hold  that  that  meeting  should  only  be  held  in 
concert  with  other  movements.  It  is  bad  general- 


Behind  the  Scenes.  319 

ship  to  put  into  the  field  only  a  fraction  of  your 
army  when  you  have  no  means  to  prevent  their 
being  cut  to  pieces.  It  is  gallant  to  go  forth  sin 
gle-handed,  but  is  it  wise  ?  I  want  to  see  some 
thing  more  than  the  spiteful  Herald  behind  me 
when  I  step  forward  in  this  cause  at  the  Cooper  In 
stitute.  Let  Mr.  Brady  out  with  his  circulars,  with 
his  list  of  commanding  names,  let  the  Herald  and 
Tribune  give  a  united  blast  upon  their  bugles,  let 
the  city  be  placarded,  and  the  doors  of  Cooper 
Institute  be  flung  wide  open,  and  the  people, 
without  regard  to  party,  come  up  to  the  discharge 
of  this  national  duty. 

"  Don't  let  the  cause  be  made  ridiculous  by  fail 
ure  at  the  outset.  Mr.  Garnet  and  I  could  bear 
any  mortification  of  this  kind ;  but  the  cause 
could  not.  And  our  cause  must  not  be  damaged 
by  any  such  generalship,  which  would  place  us 
in  the  van  unsupported. 

"  I  shall  be  at  home  by  Saturday  ;  please  write 
me  and  let  me  know  how  matters  are  proceed- 


320  Behind  the  Scenes. 

ing.      Show  this   letter  to   Messrs.   Brady   and 
Garnet. 

"  I  am,  dear  madam, 

"  Yery  truly  yours, 

"  FEEDEEICK  DOUGLASS." 

"  ROCHESTER,  Oct.  30,  1867. 

"  MY  DEAR  MES.  KECKLEY  : — It  is  just  possible 
that  I  may  not  take  New  Jrork  in  my  route  home 
ward.  In  that  case  please  write  me  directly  at 
Rochester,  and  let  me  know  fully  how  the  sub 
scription  business  is  proceeding.  The  meeting 
here  last  night  was  a  grand  success.  I  speak 
again  this  evening,  and  perhaps  at  Reading  to 
morrow  evening.  My  kind  regards  to  all  who 
think  of  me  at  21,  including  Mrs.  Lawrence. 
"  Yery  truly  yours, 

"  FEEDS.  DOUGLASS." 

"ROCHESTER,  Nov.  10,  1867. 

"  MY  DEAE  MES.  KECKLEY  : — I  very  easily  read 
your  handwriting.      With  practice  you  will  not 


Behind  the  Scenes.  321 

only  write  legibly  but  elegantly ;  so  no  more 
apologies  for  bad  writing.  Penmanship  has 
always  been  one  of  my  own  deficiencies,  and  I 
know  how  to  sympathize  with  you. 

"  I  am  just  home,  and  find  your  letter  awaiting 
me.  You  should  have  received  an  earlier  answer 
but  for  this  absence.  I  am  sorry  it  will  be  im 
possible  for  me  to  see  you  before  I  go  to  Wash 
ington.  I  am  leaving  home  this  week  for  Ohio, 
and  shall  go  from  Ohio  to  Washington.  I  shall 
be  in  New  York  a  day  or  two  after  my  visit  to 
Washington,  and  will  see  you  there.  Any  pub 
lic  demonstration  in  which  it  will  be  desirable  for 
me  to  take  part,  ought  to  come  off  the  last  of  this 
month  or  the  first  of  next.  I  thank  you  sincerely 
for  the  note  containing  a  published  letter  of  dear 
Mrs.  Lincoln  ;  both  letters  do  credit  to  the  excel 
lent  lady.  I  prize  her  beautiful  letter  to  me  very 
highly.  It  is  the  letter  of  a  refined  and  spirited 
lady,  let  the  world  say  what  it  will  of  her.  I 

would  write  her  a  word  of  acknowledgment  but 
14* 


322  Behind  the  Scenes. 

for  fear  to  burden  her  with,  correspondence.  I 
am  glad  that  Mr.  Garnet  arid  yourself  saw  Mr. 
Greeley,  and  that  he  takes  the  right  view  of  the 
matter ;  but  we  want  more  than  right  views,  and 
delay  is  death  to  the  movement.  What  you  now 
want  is  action  and  co-operation.  If  Mr.  Brady 
does  not  for  any  reason  find  himself  able  to  move 
the  machinery,  somebody  else  should  be  found  to 
take  his  place ;  he  made  a  good  impression  on 
me  when  I  saw  him,  but  I  have  not  seen  the 
promised  simultaneous  movement  of  which  we 
spoke  when  together.  This  whole  thing  should 
be  in  the  hands  of  some  recognized  solid  man  in 
New  York.  ~No  man  would  be  better  than  Mr. 
Greeley ;  no  man  in  the  State  is  more  laughed  at, 
and  yet  no  man  is  more  respected  and  trusted ; 
a  dollar  placed  in  his  hands  would  be  as  safe  for 
the  purpose  as  in  a  burglar-proof  safe,  and  what 
is  better  still,  everybody  believes  this.  This  testi 
monial  must  be  more  than  a  negro  testimonial. 
It  is  a  great  national  duty.  Mr.  Lincoln  did 


Behind  the  Scenes.  323 

everything  for  the  black  man,  but  he  did  it  not 
for  the  black  man's  sake,  but  for  the  nation's 
sake.  His  life  was  given  for  the  nation  ;  but  for 
being  President,  Mr.  Lincoln  would  have  been 
alive,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  would  have  been  a  wife, 
and  not  a  widow  as  now.  Do  all  you  can,  dear 
Mrs.  Keckley — nobody  can  do  more  than  you  in 
removing  the  mountains  of  prejudice  towards 
that  good  lady,  and  opening  the  way  of  success  in 
the  plan. 

"  I  am,  dear  madam,  very  truly  yours, 

"  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS." 

Many  persons  called  at  609  Broadway  to  exam 
ine  Mrs.  Lincoln's  wardrobe,  but  as  curiosity 
prompted  each  visit,  but  few  articles  were  sold. 
Messrs.  Brady  &  Keyes  were  not  very  energetic, 
and,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  letters  of  Mrs.  Lin 
coln,  published  in  the  Appendix,  that  lady  ulti 
mately  lost  all  confidence  in  them.  It  was  pro 
posed  to  send  circulars,  stating  Mrs.  Lincoln's 


324:  Behind  the  Scenes. 

wants,  and  appealing  to  the  generosity  of  the 
people  for  aid,  broad-cast  over  the  country ;  but 
the  scheme  failed.  Messrs.  Brady  &  Keyes  were 
unable  to  obtain  the  names  of  prominent  men, 
whom  the  people  had  confidence  in,  for  the  cir 
cular,  to  give  character  and  responsibility  to  the 
movement — so  the  whole  thing  was  abandoned. 
With  the  Rev.  Mr.  Garnet,  I  called  on  Mr.  Gree- 
ley,  at  the  office  of  the  Tribime,  in  connection 
with  this  scheme.  Mr.  Greeley  received  us  kind 
ly,  and  listened  patiently  to  our  proposals — then 
said : 

"  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  rendering  you  what 
assistance  I  can,  but  the  movement  must  be  engi 
neered  by  responsible  parties.  Messrs.  Brady  & 
Keyes  are  not  the  men  to  be  at  the  head  of  it. 
Nobody  knows  who  they  are,  or  what  they  are. 
Place  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  those  that  the 
people  know  and  have  some  confidence  in,  and 
then  there  will  be  a  chance  for  success/' 

We  thanked  Mr.  Greeley  for  his  advice,  for  we 


Behind  the  Scenes.  325 

believed  it  to  be  good  advice,  and  bowed  our 
selves  out  of  his  room.  When  Messrs.  Brady  & 
Keyes  were  informed  of  the  result  of  our  inter 
view,  they  became  very  much  excited,  and  de 
nounced  Mr.  Greeley  as  "  an  old  fool."  This  put 
an  end  to  the  circular  movement.  The  enterprise 
was  nipped  in  the  bud,  and  with  the  bud  wither 
ed  Mrs.  Lincoln's  last  hope  for  success.  A  por 
tion  of  the  wardrobe  was  then  taken  to  Provi 
dence,  to  be  exhibited,  but  without  her  consent. 
Mr.  Brady  remarked  that  the  exhibition  would 
bring  in  money,  and  as  money  must  be  raised, 
this  was  the  last  resort.  He  was  of  the  impres 
sion  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  would  approve  of  any 
movement,  so  it  ended  in  success.  This,  at  least, 
is  a  charitable  view  to  take  of  the  subject.  Had 
the  exhibition  succeeded  in  Providence,  it  is  my 
opinion  that  the  agents  of  Brady  &  Keyes  would 
now  be  travelling  over  the  country,  exposing  Mrs. 
Lincoln's  wardrobe  to  the  view  of  the  curious,  at 
so  much  per  head.  As  is  well  known,  the  city 


326  Behind  the  Scenes. 


authorities  refused  to  allow  the  exhibition  to  take 
place  in  Providence  ;  therefore  Mr.  Brady  return 
ed  to  New  York  with  the  goods,  and  the  travel 
ling  show  scheme,  like  the  circular  scheme,  was 
abandoned.  Weeks  lengthened  into  months,  and 
at  Mrs.  Lincoln's  urgent  request  I  remained  in 
New  York,  to  look  after  her  interests.  When 
she  left  the  city  I  engaged  quiet  lodgings  in  a 
private  family,  where  I  remained  about  two 
months,  when  I  moved  to  14  Carroll  Place,  and 
became  one  of  the  regular  boarders  of  the  house. 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  venture  proved  so  disastrous  that 
she  was  unable  to  reward  me  for  my  services,  and 
I  was  compelled  to  take  in  sewing  to  pay  for  my 
daily  bread.  My  New  York  expedition  has  made 
me  richer  in  experience,  but  poorer  in  purse. 
During  the  entire  winter  I  have  worked  early 
and  late,  and  practised  the  closest  economy. 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  business  demanded  much  of  my 
time,  and  it  was  a  constant  source  of  trouble  to 
me.  When  Mrs.  L.  left  for  the  West,  I  expected 


Behind  the  Scenes.  327 

to  be  able  to  return  to  Washington  in  one  week 
from  the  day;  but  unforeseen  difficulties  arose, 
and  I  have  been  detained  in  the  city  for  several 
months.  As  I  am  writing  the  concluding  pages 
of  this  book,  •  I  have  succeeded  in  closing  up 
Mrs.  Lincoln's  imprudent  business  arrangement 
at  609  Broadway.  The  firm  of  Brady  &  Keyes 
is  dissolved,  and  Mr.  Keyes  has  adjusted  the 
account.  The  story  is  told  in  a  few  words.  On 
the  4th  of  March  I  received  the  following  in 
voice  from  Mr.  Keyes  : 

"  March  4,  '68. 

"Invoice  of  articles  sent  to  Mrs.  A.  Lincoln: 
1  Trunk.  * 

1  Lace  dress. 
1     do.     do.     flounced. 
5  Lace  shawls. 
3  Camel  hair  shawls. 
1  Lace  parasol  cover. 
1     do.     handkerchief. 


328  Behind  the  Scenes. 

1  Sable  boa. 

1  "White  do. 

1  Set  furs. 

2  Paisley  shawls. 
2  Gold  bracelets. 

16  Dresses. 

2  Opera  cloaks. 
1  Purple  shawl. 
1  Feather  cape. 

28  yds.  silk. 

ARTICLES    SOLD. 

1  Diamond  ring. 

3  Small         do. 
1  Set  furs. 

1  Camel  hair  shawl. 

1  Ked  do. 

2  Dresses. 

1  Child's  shawl. 
1  Lace  Chantilly  shawl." 
The  charges  of  the  firm  amounted  to  eight 
hundred  dollars.     Mrs.  Lincoln  sent  me  a  check 


Behind  the  Scents.  329 

for  this  amount.     I  handed  this  check  to  Mr. 
Keyes,  and  he  gave  me  the  following  receipt : 

"  Received,  New  York,  March  4,  1868,  of  Mrs. 
Abraham  Lincoln,  eight  hundred  and  twenty 
dollars  by  draft  on  American  National  Bank, 
New  York. 

"S.  C.  KEYES." 

I  packed  the  articles  invoiced,  and  expressed 
the  trunks  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  at  Chicago.  I  then 
demanded  and  received  a  receipt  worded  as 
follows : 

"  Received,  New  York,  March  4,  1868,  of  Mrs. 
Abraham  Lincoln,  eight  hundred  and  twenty 
dollars  in  fall  of  all  demands  of  every  kind  up  to 
date. 

"S.  C.  KEYES." 

This  closed  up  the  business,  and  with  it  I 
close  the  imperfect  story  of  my  somewhat  roman 
tic  life.  I  have  experienced  many  ups  and 


330  Behind  the  Scenes. 

downs,  but  still  am  stout  of  heart.  The  labor  of 
a  lifetime  has  brought  'me  nothing  in  a  pecu 
niary  way.  I  have  worked  hard,  but  fortune, 
fickle  dame,  has  not  smiled  upon  me.  If  poverty 
did  not  weigh  me  .down  as  it  does,  I  would  not 
now  be  toiling  by  day  with  my  needle,  and 
writing  by  night,  in  the  plain  little  room  on  the 
fourth  floor  of  "No.  14  Carroll  Place.  And  yet  I 
have  learned  to  love  the  garret-like  room.  Here, 
with  Mrs.  Amelia  Lancaster  as  my  only  com 
panion,  I  have  spent  many  pleasant  hours,  as 
well  as  sad  ones,  and  every  chair  looks  like  an  old 
friend.  In  memory  I  have  travelled  through  the 
shadows  and  the  sunshine  of  the  past,  and  the 
bare  walls  are  associated  with  the  visions  that 
have  come  to  me  from  the  long-ago.  As  I  love 
the  children  of  memory,  so  I  love  every  article  in 
this  room,  for  each  has  become  a  part  of  memory 
itself.  Though  poor  in  worldly  goods,  I  am  rich 
in  friendships,  and  friends  are  a  recompense  for 
all  the  woes  of  the  darkest  pages  of  life.  For 


Behind  the  Scenes.  331 

sweet  friendship's  sake,  I  can  bear  more  burdens 
than  I  have  borne. 

The  letters  appended  from  Mrs.  Lincoln  to 
myself  throw  a  flood  of  light  upon  the  history  of 
the  "  old  clothes  "  speculation  in  New  York. 


APPEJSTDIX. 


LETTERS  FROM  MRS.  LINCOLN  TO  MRS.  KECKLEY. 

"  CHICAGO,  Sunday  Morning-,  Oct.  6. 
"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — I  am  writing  this  morn 
ing  with,  a  broken  heart  after  a  sleepless  night  of 
great  mental  suffering.  K.  came  up  last  evening 
like  a  maniac,  and  almost  threatening  his  life, 
looking  like  death,  because  the  letters  of  the 
World  were  published  in  yesterday's  paper.  I 
could  not  refrain  from  weeping  when  I  saw  him 
so  miserable.  But  yet,  my  dear  good  Lizzie,  was 
it  not  to  protect  myself  and  help  others — and  was 
not  my  motive  and  action  of  the  purest  kind  ? 


Appendix.  333 

Pray  for  me  that  this  cup  of  affliction  may  pass 
from  me,  or  be  sanctified  to  me.  I  weep  whilst 
I  am  writing.  *  *  I  pray  for 

death  this  morning.  Only  my  darling  Taddie 
prevents  my  taking  my  life.  I  shall  have  to 
endure  a  round  of  newspaper  abuse  from  the 
Republicans  because  I  dared  venture  to  relieve 
a  few  of  my  wants.  Tell  Mr.  Brady  and  Keyes 
not  to  have  a  line  of  mine  once  more  in  print. 
I  am  nearly  losing  my  reason. 

"  Your  friend, 

"M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  Oct.  8. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — Bowed  down  with  suffer 
ing  and  anguish,  again  I  write  you.  As  we 
might  have  expected,  the  Republicans  are  falsify 
ing  me,  and  doing  just  as  they  did  when  they 
prevented  the  Congressional  appropriation.  Mrs. 
-  knows  something  about  these  same  people. 
As  her  husband  is  living  they  dare  not  utter  all 


334  Appendix. 

they  would  desire  to  speak.  You  know  yourself 
how  innocently  I  have  acted,-  and  from  the  best 
and  purest  motives.  They  will  hovd  on  to  pre 
vent  my  disposing  of  my  things.  "What  a  vile, 
vile  set  they  are !  The  Tribune  here,  Mr.  White's 
paper,  wrote  a  very  beautiful  editorial  yesterday 
in  my  behalf;  yet  knowing  that  I  have  been 
deprived  of  iny  rights  by  the  party,  I  suppose 
I  would  be  mobbed  if  I  ventured  out.  What 
a  world  of  anguish  this  is — and  how  I  have  been 
made  to  suffer !  *  *  You  would  not 

recognize  me  now.  The  glass  shows  me  a  pale, 
wretched,  haggard  face,  and  my  dresses  are 
like  bags  on  me.  And  all  because  I  was  do 
ing  what  I  felt  to  be  my  duty.  Our  minister, 
Mr.  Swazey,  called  on  me  yesterday  and  said  I 

had  done  perfectly  right.     Mrs.  F says  every 

one  speaks  in  the  same  way.  The  politicians, 
knowing  they  have  deprived  me  of  my  just 
rights,  would  prefer  to  see  me  starve,  rather  than 
dispose  of  my  things.  They  will  prevent  the 


Appendix.  335 

sale  of  anything,  so  I  have  telegraphed  for  them. 
I  hope  you  have  received  from  B.  the  letters 
I  have  consigned  to  his  care.  See  to  this.  Show 
none  of  them.  Write  me  every  day. 

"M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  Wednesday,  October  9th. 
"  My  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — It  appears  as  if  the  fiends 
had  let  loose,  for  the  Republican  papers  are  tear 
ing  me  to  pieces  in  this  border  ruffian  West.  If 
I  had  committed  murder  in  every  city  in  this 
blessed  Union,  I  could  not  be  more  traduced. 
And  you  know  how  innocent  I  have  been  of  the 
intention  of  doing  wrong.  A  piece  in  the  morn 
ing  Tribune,  signed  '  B,'  pretending  to  be  a 
lady,  says  there  is  no  doubt  Mrs.  L. —  is  de 
ranged — has  been  for  years  past,  and  will  end  her 
life  in  a  lunatic  asylum.  They  would  doubtless 
like  me  to  begin  it  now.  Mr.  S.,  a  very  kind, 
sympathizing  minister,  has  been  with  me  this 
morning,  and  has  now  gone  to  see  Mr.  Medill, 


336  Appendix. 

of  the  Tribune,  to  know  if  he  sanctioned  his  paper 
publishing  such  an  article.      *  *     Pray 

for  me,  dear  Lizzie,  for  I  am  very  miserable  and 
broken-hearted.  Since  writing  this,  I  have  just 
received  a  letter  from -Mr.  Keyes,  begging  and 
pleading  with  me  to  allow  them  to  use  my  name 
for  donations.  I  think  I  will  consent.  * 
"  Truly  yours, 

M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  Sunday,  Oct.  13. 

"  MY  DEAB  LIZZIE  : — I  am  greatly  disappointed, 
having  only  received  one  letter  from  you  since 
we  parted,  which  was  dated  the  day  after.  Day 
after  day  I  sent  to  Mrs.  F.  for  letters.  After 
your  promise  of  writing  to  me  every  other  day,  1 
can  scarcely  understand  it.  I  hope  to-morrow 
will  bring  me  a  letter  from  you.  How  much  I 
miss  you  cannot  be  expressed.  I  hope  you  have 
arrived  safely  in  Washington,  and  will  tell  me 
everything.  *  *  "Was  there  ever  such 


Appendix.  337 

cruel  newspaper  abuse  lavished  upon  an  un 
offending  woman  as  has  been  showered  upon  my 
devoted  head?  The  people  of  this  ungrateful 
country  are  like  the  '  dogs  in  the  manger ;' 
will  neither  do  anything  themselves,  nor  allow  me 
to  improve  my  own  condition.  What  a  Govern 
ment  we  have  !  All  their  abuse  lavished  upon 
me  only  lowers  themselves  in  the  estimation  of 
all  true-hearted  people.  The  Springfield  Journal 
had  an  editorial  a  few  days  since,  with  the 
important  information  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  had 
been  known  to  be  deranged  for  years,  and 
should  be  pitied  for  all  her  strange  acts.  I 
should  have  been  all  right  if  I  had  allowed  them 
to  take  possession  of  the  White  House.  In  the 
comfortable  stealings  by  contracts  from  the  Gov 
ernment,  these  low  creatures  are  allowed  to  hurl 
their  malicious  wrath  at  me,  with  no  one  to 
defend  me  or  protect  me,  if  I  should  starve. 
These  people  injure  themselves  far  more  than 
they  could  do  me,  by  their  lies  and  villany. 
Their  aim  is  to  prevent  my  goods  being  sold,  or 


338  Appendix. 

anything  being  done  for  me.  In  Ms,  I  very 
much  fear,  they  have  succeeded. 

"  Write  me,  my  dear  friend,  your  candid  opinion 
about  everything.  I  wished  to  be  made  better 
off,  quite  as  much  to  improve  your  condition  as 
well  as  for  myself.  *  *  Two  weeks 

ago,  dear  Lizzie,  we  were  in  that  den  of  discom 
fort  and  dirt.  Now  we  are  far  asunder.  Every 
other  day,  for  the  past  {week,  I  have  had  a  chill, 
brought  on  by  excitement  and  suffering  of  mind. 
In  the  midst  of  it  I  have  moved  into  my  winter 
quarters,  and  am  now  very  comfortably  situated. 
My  parlor  and  bedroom  are  very  sweetly  fur 
nished.  I  am  lodged  in  a  handsome  house,  a  very 
kind,  good,  quiet  family,  and  their  meals  are  ex 
cellent.  I  consider  myself  fortunate  in  all  this.  I 
feel  assured  that  the  Republicans,  who,  to  cover 
up  their  own  perfidy  and  neglect,  have  used  every 
villanous  falsehood  in  their  power  to  injure  me — 
I  fear  they  have  more  than  succeeded,  but  if  their 
day  of  reckoning  does  not  come  in  this  world,  it 
will  surely  in  the  next. 


Appendix.  339 

"  Saturday. — I  have  determined  to  shed  no 
more  tears  over  all  their  cruel  falsehoods,  yet,  jnst 
now,  I  feel  almost  forsaken  by  God  and  man — ex 
cept  by  the  latter  to  be  vilified.  Write  me  all  that 
Keyes  and  Brady  think  of  the  result.  For  my 
self,  after  such  abuse,  I  expect  nothing.  Oh  !  that 
I  could  see  you.  Write  me,  dear  Lizzie,  if  only  a 
line  ;  I  cannot  understand  your  silence.  Here 
after  direct  your  letters  to  Mrs.  A.  Lincoln,  460 
West  Washington  street,  Chicago,  111.,  care  of  D. 
Cole.  Remember  460.  I  am  always  so  anxious 
to  hear  from  you,  I  am  feeling  so  friendless  in 
the  world.  I  remain  always  your  affectionate 
friend.  M.  L." 

POSTSCRIPT  TO  LETTER  OF  OCT.  24. 

"  I  cannot  send  this  letter  off  without  writing 
you  two  little  incidents  that  have  occurred  within 
the  past  week.  We  may  call  it  justice  rendered 
for  evil  words,,  to  say  the  least.  There  is  a  paper 
published  in  Chicago  called  the  Republican, 


340  Appendix. 

owned  and  published  by  Springfield  men.  Each 
morning  since  my  return  it  has  been  thrown  at 
my  door,  filled  with  abuse  of  myself.  Four  days 
ago  a  piece  appeared  in  it,  asking  <  What  right 
had  Mrs.  L.  to  diamonds  and  laces  ? '  Yesterday 
morning  an  article  appeared  in  the  same  paper, 
announcing  that  the  day  previous,  at  the  house  of 
Mr.  Bunn  (the  owner  of  the  paper),  in  Spring 
field,  Illinois — the  house  had  been  entered  at  11 
in  the  morning,  by  burglars,  and  had  been  robbed 
of  Jive  diamond  rings,  and  a  quantity  of  fine  laces. 
This  morning's  paper  announces  the  recovery  of 
these  articles.  Mr.  Bunn,  who  made  his  hundreds 
of  thousands  oif  our  government,  is  running  this 
paper,  and  denouncing  the  wife  of  the  man  from 
whom  he  obtained  his  means.  I  enclose  you  the 
article  about  the  recovery  of  the  goods.  A  few 

years  ago  he   had  a  small  grocery  in  S . 

These  facts  can  be  authenticated.  Another  case 
in  point :  The  evening  I  left  my  house  to  come 
here,  the  young  daughter  of  one  of  rny  neighbors 


Appendix. 

in  the  same  block,  was  in  a  house  not  a  square  off, 
and  in  a  childish  manner  was  regretting  that  I 
could  not  retain  my  house.  The  man  in  the 
house  said :  i  Why  waste  your  tears  and  regrets 
on  Mrs.  Lincoln  ? '  An  hour  afterward  the  hus 
band  and  wife  went  out  to  make  a  call,  doubtless 
to  gossip  about  me ;  on  their  return  they  found 
their  young  boy  had  almost  blinded  himself  with  - 
gunpowder.  Who  will  say  that  the  cry  of  the 
1  widow  and  fatherless '  is  disregarded  in  His 
sight !  If  man  is  not  merciful,  God  will  be  in 
his  own  time.  M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  October  29. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — I  received  a  very  pleas 
ant  note  from  Mr.  F.  Douglass  on  yesterday. 
I  will  reply  to  it  this  morning,  and  enclose 
it  to  you  to  hand  or  send  him  immediate 
ly.  In  this  morning's  Tribune  there  was 
a  little  article  evidently  designed  to  make 
capital  against  me  just  now — that  three  of  my 


342  Appendix. 

brothers  were  in  the  Southern  army  during 
the  war.  If  they  had  been  friendly  with  me  they 
might  have  said  they  were  half  brothers  of  Mrs. 
L.,  whom  she  had  not  known  since  they  were 
infants ;  and  as  she  left  Kentucky  at  an  early  age 
her  sympathies  were  entirely  Republican — that 
her  feelings  were  entirely  with  the  North  during 
the  war,  and  always.  I  never  failed  to  urge  my 
husband  to  be  an  extreme  Republican,  and  now, 
in  the  day  of  my  trouble,  you  see  how  this  very 
party  is  trying  to  work  against  me.  Tell  Mr. 
Douglass,  and  every  one,  how  deeply  my  feelings 
were  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  Why  harp 
upon  these  half  brothers,  whom  I  never  knew 
since  they  were  infants,  and  scarcely  then,  for 
my  early  home  was  truly  at  a  boarding  school. 
Write  to  him  all  this,  and  talk  it  to  every  one 
else.  If  we  succeed  I  will  soon  send  you  enough 
for  a  very  large  supply  of  trimming  material  for 
the  winter.  Truly, 

"M.  L." 


Appendix.  343 

"  CHICAGO,  Nov.  2d 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — Your  letter  of  last  Wed 
nesday  is  received,  and  I  cannot  refrain  from 
expressing  my  surprise  that  before  now  K.  and 
B.  did  not  go  out  in  search  of  names,  and  have 
sent  forth  all  those  circulars.  Their  conduct  is 
becoming  mysterious.  We  have  heard  enough 
of  their  talk — it  is  time  now  they  should  be  act 
ing.  Their  delay,  I  fear,  has  ruined  the  business. 
The  circulars  should  all  have  been  out  before  the 
election.  I  cannot  understand  their  slowness. 
As  Mr.  Greeley's  home  is  in  New  York,  he  could 
certainly  have  been  found  had  he  ~been  sought ; 
and  there  are  plenty  of  other  good  men  in  New 
York,  as  well  as  himself.  I  venture  to  say,  that 
before  the  election  not  a  circular  will  be  sent  out. 
I  begin  to  think  they  are  making  a  political  busi 
ness  of  my  clothes,  and  not  for  my  benefit  either. 
Their  delay  in  acting  is  becoming  very  suspicious. 
Their  slow,  bad  management  is  ruining  every 
prospect  of  success.  I  fear  you  are  only  losing 


344:  Appendix. 

your  time  in  New  York,  and  that  I  shall  be  left 
in  debt  for  what  I  am  owing  the  firm.  I  have 
written  to  K.  and  B.,  and  they  do  nothing  that  I 
request.  I  want  neither  Mr.  Douglass  nor  Gar 
net  to  lecture  in  my  behalf.  The  conduct  in 
New  York  is  disgusting  me  with  the  whole  busi 
ness.  I  cannot  understand  what  they  have  been 
about.  Their  delay  has  only  given  the  enemies 
time  to  gather  strength  ;  what  tloes  it  all  mean  ? 
Of  course  give  the  lady  at  609  permission  to  sell 
the  dresses  cheaper.  *  *  I  am  feeling 

wretchedly  over  the  slowness  and  do-nothing 
style  of  B.  &  K.  I  believe  in  my  heart  I  am 
being  used  as  a  tool  for  party  purposes  ;  and  they 
do  not  design  sending  out  a  circular.  *  *  * 
"  Your  friend,  M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  Nov.  9,  1867. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — *  *  *  Did  you  receive 
a  letter  a  few  days  since,  with  one  enclosed  for  F. 
Douglass  ?  also  a  printed  letter  of  mine,  which  I 


Appendix.  345 

wished  him  to  read  ?  Do  write  me  every  other 
day  at  least,  I  am  so  nervous  and  miserable. 
And  Lizzie,  dear,  I  fear  we  have  not  the  least 
chance  of  success.  Do  remain  in  New  York  a 
little  longer,  and  occupy  yourself  with  the  sewing 
of  your  friends.  Then  I  shall  be  able  to  learn 
something  about  my  business.  In  your  heart 
you  know  there  will  be  no  success.  Why  do  you 
not  candidly  express  yourself  to  me  ?  Write  me, 
if  only  a  few  lines,  and  that  very  frequently. 
R.  called  up  on  yesterday,  with  Judge  Davis. 
*  R.  goes  with  Judge  D.  on  Tuesday, 
to  settle  the  estate,  which  will  give  us  each  about 
$25,000,  with  the  income  I  told  you  of,  $1,700  a 
year  for  each  of  us.  You  made  a  mistake  about 
my  house  costing  $2,700— it  was  $1,700.  The 
$22,000  Congress  gave  me  I  spent  for  house  and 
furniture,  which,  owing  to  the  smallness  of  my 
income,  I  was  obliged  to  leave.  I  mention  about 

O 

the  division  of  the  estate  to  you,  dear  Lizzie,  be 
cause  when  it  is  done  the  papers  will  harp  upon 
15* 


346  Appendix. 

it.  You  can  explain  everything  in  New  York ; 
please  do  so  to  every  one.  Please  see  H.  G.,  if 
it  should  come  out  in  the  papers.  I  had  hoped, 
if  something  was  gained,  to  have  immediately 
placed  you  in  more  pleasant  circumstances.  Do 
urge  F.  D.  to  add  his  name  to  the  circular ;  also 
get  them  to  have  Beecher's.  There  must  not  be 
an  hour's  delay  in  this.  R.  is  very  spiteful  at 
present,  and  I  think  hurries  up  the  division  to 
cross  my  purposes.  He  mentioned  yesterday 
that  he  was  going  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  so 
soon  as  Edgar  Welles  joined  him.  He  is  very 
deep.  *  *  Write  me,  do,  when  you 

receive  this.     Your  silence  pains  me. 
"  Truly  yours, 

"M.  L." 

"CHICAGO,  Nov.  9. 

"My  BEAK  LIZZIE:— I  closed  and  sent  off  my 
letter  before  I  had  finished  all  I  had  to  say.  Do 
not  hint  to  K.  or  B.,  or  any  one  else,  my  doubts  of 


Appendix.  347 

them,  only  watch  them.  As  to  S.,  so  many  false 
hoods  are  told  in  the  papers  that  all  the  stuff 
about  his  wife  and  himself  may  be  untrue.  I 
hope  it  may  prove  so.  I  received  a  letter  from 
Keyes  this  morning.  I  believe  I  wrote  you  that 
I  had.  How  hard  it  is  that  1  cannot  see  and 
talk  with  you  in  this  time  of  great,  great  trouble. 
I  feel  as  if  I  had  not  a  friend  in  the  world  save 
yourself.  *  *  I  sometimes  wish  myself  out 
of  this  world  of  sorrow  and  care.  I  fear  my  fine 
articles  at  B.'s  are  getting  pulled  to  pieces  and 
soiled.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  leave  N.  Y.  with 
out  having  the  finest  articles  packed  up  and  re 
turned  to  me.  The  single  white  camel's  hair 
shawl  and  the  two  Paisleys  I  wish  returned  to 
me,  if  none  of  them  are  sold.  Do  you  think 
there  is  the  least  chance  of  their  being  sold  ?  I 
will  give  you  a  list  of  the  articles  I  wish 
returned  to  me  from  Mr.  Brady's  before  you 
leave  New  York  for  Washington. 

"  1  Camel's  hair  shawl,  double  black  centre. 


348  Appendix. 

1  Camel's  hair  shawl,  double  white  centre. 

1  Single  white  camel's  hair  shawl. 

2  Paisley  shawls — ^white. 

1  Pair  bracelets  and  diamond  ring. 

1  Fine  lace  handkerchief. 

3  Black  lace  shawls. 

2  Black  lama  shawls. 

1  Dress,  silk  unmade,  white  and  black. 

1  White  boa. 

1  Kussian  sable  boa. 

1  Russian  sable  cape. 

1  A.  sable  cape,  cuffs  and  muff. 

1  Chinchilla  set. 

"  The  lace  dress,  flounce,  and  shawl,  if  there  is 
no  possibility  of  their  being  sold.  Also  all  other 
fine  articles  return  me,  save  the  dresses  which, 
with  prices  lowered,  may  ~be  sold.  * 

"M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  Nov.  15,  '67. 
"  MY  DEAR  'KEOKLEY  : — Your  last  letter  has  been 


Appendix.  349 

received,  and  believe  me,  I  duly  appreciate  your 
great  interest  in  my  affairs.  I  hope  the  day  may 
arrive  when  I  can  return  your  kindness  in  more 
than  words.  As  you  are  aware  of  my  beloved 
husband's  great  indulgence  to  me  in  pecuniary 
matters,  thereby  allowing  me  to  indulge  in  be 
stowing  favors  on  those  whom  I  considered  wor 
thy  of  it,  it  is  in  this  respect  I  feel  chiefly  the 
humiliation  of  my  small  circumscribed  income. 
If  Congress,  or  the  Ration,  had  given  me  the  four 
years'  salary,  I  should  have  been  able  to  live  as 
the  widow  of  the  great  President  Lincoln  should, 
with  sufficient  means  to  give  liberally  to  all  bene 
volent  objects,  and  at  my  death  should  have  left 
at  least  half  of  it  to  the  freedmen,  for  the  liberty 
of  whom  his  precious  sacred  life  was  sacrificed. 
The  men  who  prevented  this  being  done  by  their 
villanous  unscrupulous  falsehoods,  are  no  friends 
of  the  colored  race,  and,  as  you  well  know,  have 
led  Johnson  on  in  his  wicked  course. 

" '  God  is  just?  and  the  day  of  retribution  will 


350  Appendix. 

come  to  all  such,  if  not  in  this  world,  in  the  great 
hereafter,  to  which  those  hoary-headed  sinners  are 
so  rapidly  hastening,  with  an  innocent  conscience. 
I  did  not  feel  it  necessary  to  raise  my  weak 
woman's  voice  against  the  persecutions  that  have 
assailed  me  emanating  from  the  tongues  of  such 
men  as  Weed  &  Co.  I  have  felt  that  their  infa 
mous  false  lives  was  a  sufficient  vindication  of  my 
character.  They  have  never  forgiven  me  for 
standing  between  my  pure  and  noble  husband  and 
themselves,  when,  for  their  own  vile  purposes, 
they  would  have  led  him  into  error.  All  this 
the  country  knows,  and  why  should  I  dwell 
longer  on  it  ?  In  the  blissful  home  where  my 
worshipped  husband  dwells  God  is  ever  merciful, 
and  it  is  the  consolation  of  my  broken  heart  that 
my  darling  husband  is  ever  retaining  the  devoted 
love  which  he  always  so  abundantly  manifested 
for  his  wife  and  children  in  this  life.  I  feel 
assured  his  watchful,  loving  eyes  are  always  watch 
ing  over  us,  and  he  is  fully  aware  of  the  wrong 


Appendix.  351 

and  injustice  permitted  his  family  by  a  country 
he  lost  his  life  in  protecting.  I  write  earnestly, 
because  I  feel  very  deeply.  It  appears  to  me  a 
very  remarkable  coincidence,  that  most  of  the 
good  feeling  regarding  irfy  straitened  circum 
stances  proceeds  from  the  colored  people,  in 
whose  cause  my  noble  husband  was  so  largely  in 
terested.  Whether  we  are  successful  or  not,  Mr. 
F.  Douglass  and  Mr.  Garnet  will  always  have 
my  most  grateful  thanks.  They  are  very  noble 
men.  If  any  favorable  results  should  crown  their 
efforts,  you  may  well  believe  at  my  death,  what 
ever  sum  it  may  be,  will  be  bequeathed  to  the 
colored  people,  who  are  very  near  my  heart.  In 
yesterday's  paper  it  was  announced  that  Gov. 
Andrew's  family  were  having  $100,000  contri 
buted  to  them.  Gov.  A.  was  a  good  man,  but 
what  did  he  do  compared  to  President  Lincoln  ? 
Right  and  left  the  latter  gave,  when  he  had  but 
little  to  bestow,  and  in  consequence  his  family  are 
now  feeling  it ;  yet  for  my  life  I  would  not  re- 


352  Appendix. 

call  a  dollar  he  ever  gave.  Yet  his  favorite  ex 
pression,  when  I  have  playfully  alluded  to  the 
c  rainy  day  '  that  might  be  in  store  for  himself 
and  his  own  on  several  occasions,  he  has  looked 
at  me  so  earnestly  and  replied,  '  Cast  your  bread 
upon  the  waters.'  Although  the  petty  sum  of 
$22,000  was  an  insufficient  return  for  Congress  to 
make  me,  and  allowanced  to  its  meagreness  by 
men  who  traduced  and  vilified  the  loved  wife  of 
the  great  man  who  made  them,  and  from  whom 
they  amassed  great  fortunes — for  Weed,  and  Sew- 
ardj  and  R.  did  this  last.  And  yet,  all  this 
was  permitted  by  an  American  people,  who  owed 
their  remaining  a  nation  to  my  husband  !  I  have 
dwelt  too  long  on  this  painful  subject,  but  when 
I  have  been  compelled  from  a  pitiful  income  to 
make  a  boarding-house  of  my  home,  as  I  now  am 
doing,  think  you  that  it  does  not  rankle  in  my 
heart  ? 

"  Fortunately,  with  my  husband's  great,  great 
love  for  me — the  knowledge  of  this  future  for  his 


Appendix.  353 

petted  and  idolized  wife  was  spared  him,  and  yet 
I  feel  in  my  heart  he  knows  it  all.  Mr.  Sumner, 
the  intimate  friend  of  better  days,  called  to  see 
me  two  or  three  weeks  since — he  who  had  been 
an  habitue  of  the  White  House — both  the  rooms 
of  the  President  and  my  own  reception-room,  in 
either  place  he  was  always  sure  of  a  heartfelt  wel 
come  ;  my  present  situation  must  have  struck  a 
painful  chord  in  his  noble,  sympathizing  heart. 
And  yet,  when  I  endeavored  to  ameliorate  my  con 
dition,  the  cry  has  been  so  fearful  against  me  as  to 
cause  me  to  forget  my  own  identity,  and  suppose 
I  had  plundered  the  nation,  indeed,  and  commit 
ted  murder.  This,  certainly,  cannot  be  America, 
'  the  land  of  the  free?  the  '  home  of  the  "brave? 
The  evening  before  Mr.  Sumner's  last  call  I  had 
received  Mr.  Douglass's  letter ;  I  mentioned  the 
circumstance  to  Mr.  Sumner,  who  replied :  '  Mr. 
Frederick  Douglass  is  a  very  noble,  talented  man, 
and  I  know  of  no  one  who  writes  a  more  beau 
tiful  letter.5  I  am  sending  you  a  long  letter, 


354  Appendix. 

Lizzie,  but  I  rely  a  great  deal  on  your  indulgence. 
My  fear  is  that  you  will  not  be  able  to  decipher 
the  scrawl  written  so  hastily. 

"  I  remain,  truly  yours, 

"  MARY  LINCOLN." 
f 

"CHICAGO,  Nov.  17. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — By  the  time  you  receive 
this  note,  you  will  doubtless  find  the  papers 
raving  over  the  large  income  which  we  are  each 
said  to  have.  Knowing  exactly  the  amount  we 
each  will  have,  which  I  have  already  informed 
you,  I  was  going  to  say,  I  have  been  shocked  at 
the  fabulous  sum  set  down  to  each,  but  I  have 
learned  not  to  be  surprised  at  anything.  Of 
course  it  is  gotten  up  to  defeat  success.  You  will 
now  see  the  necessity  for  those  circulars  being 
issued  weeks  since.  I  enclose  you  a  scrap  from 
yesterday's  Times  of  C.,  marked  ]STo.  1 ;  also  No. 
2,  to-day's  Times.  The  sum  of  $11,000  has  been 
subtracted  in  twenty-four  hours  from  the  same 


Appendix.  355 

paper.  If  it  continues  for  a  few  days  longer,  it 
will  soon  be  right.  It  is  a  secesh  paper — says 
Congress  gave  me  $25,000  as  a  present,  besides 
$20,000  of  remaining  salary.  The  $25,000 
you  know  to  be  utterly  false.  You  can  show 
this  note  to  B.  &  K.,  also  the  scraps  sent.  Let 
no  one  see  them  but  themselves,  and  then  burn 
them.  It  is  all  just  as  I  expected — that  when 
the  division  took  place,  a  '  mountain  would  be 
made  of  a  mole-hill.'  And  I  fear  it  will  succeed 
in  injuring  the  premeditated  plans.  If  the  war 
rages,  the  Evening  News  might  simply  say  that 
the  sum  assigned  each  was  false ;  that  $75,000 
was  the  sum  the  administrator,  Judge  Davis, 
filed  his  bonds  for.  But  by  all  means  my  author 
ity  must  not  be  given.  And  then  the  Evening 
News  can  descant  on  the  $25,000  each,  with 
income  of  $1,700  each,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln's  share, 
she  not  being  able  to  touch  any  of  her  sons' 
portion.  My  word  or  testimony  must  not  appear 
in  the  article;  only  the  paper  must  speak 


H56  Appendix. 

decidedly.    It  must  be  managed  very  judiciously, 
and  without  a  day's  delay. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"M.  L." 

"  Nov  17— (Private  for  yourself ). 
"LizziE: — Show  the  note  enclosed  with  this 
to  B.  &  K. ;  do  not  let  them  retain  it  an 
instant  after  reading,  nor  the  printed  articles.  I 
knew  these  falsehoods  would  be  circulated  when 
the  estate  was  divided.  What  has  been  the 
cause  of  the  delay  about  the  circulars  ?  I  fear, 
between  ourselves,  we  have  reason  to  distrust 
those  men,  -  — .  Whatever  is  raised  by  the 
colored  people,  I  solemnly  give  my  word,  at  my 
death  it  shall  all,  every  cent,  be  returned  to 
them.  And  out  of  the  sum,  if  it  is  $50,000,  you 
shall  have  $5,000  at  my  death ;  and  I  cannot 
live  long,  suffering  as  I  am  now  doing.  If 
$25,000  is  raised  by  your  people,  you  shall  have 
the  sum  at  my  death ;  and  in  either  event,  the 


Appendix.  35  7 

$25,000  raised,  or  $50,000,  I  will  give  you  $300 
a  year,  and  the  promised  sum  at  my  death.  It 
will  make  your  life  easier.  I  have  more  faith  in 
F.  D.'s  and  G.'s  efforts,  than  in  B.  &  K.,  I  assure 
you.  This  division  has  been  trumped  up  just 
now  through  spite.  *  *  I  have  written  to 
Judge  Davis  for  an  exact  statement,  which  I 

.* 

will  send  to  you  when  received.     Write  if  any 
thing  is  doing.     * 

"  Truly, 

"M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  November  21. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — Your  letter  of  Tuesday  is 
just  received.  I  have  just  written  B.  a  note  of 
thanks  for  his  kindness  ;  also  requesting  the  arti 
cles  of  which  I  gave  you  a  list.  Do  see  Keyes 
about  it ;  K.  will  have  it  done.  And  will  you  see 
that  they  are  forwarded  to  me  before  you  leave 
New  York  ?  K.  sent  me  a  telegram  on  yesterday 
that  eight  names  were  on  the  circulars,  and  that 


358  Appendix. 

they  would  be  sent  out  immediately.  What  suc 
cess  do  you  think  they  will  have  ?  By  all  means 
assure  K.  &  B.  I  have  great  confidence  in  them. 
These  circulars  must  bring  some  money.  Your 
letter  made  me  quite  sad.  Talk  to  K.  &  B.  of 
the  grateful  feelings  I  express  towards  them.  Do 
pet  up  B.,  and  see  my  things  returned  to  me.  Can 
you  not,  dear  Lizzie,  be  employed  in  sewing  for 
some  of  your  lady  friends  in  New  York  until 
December  1st  ?  If  I  ever  get  any  money  you  will 
be  well  remembered,  be  assured.  R.  and  a  party 
of  young  men  leave  for  the  Rocky  Mountains 
next  Monday,  to  be  absent  three  weeks.  If  the 
circulars- are  sent  out,  of  course  the  blasts  will  be 
blown  over  again.  So  R.  is  out  of  the  way  at  the 
time,  and  money  comes  in,  I  will  not  care.  Write 
the  hour  you  receive  this.  I  hope  they  will  send 
out  150,000  circulars.  Urge  K.  &  B.  to  do 
this. 

"  Your  friend, 

"M.  L." 


Appendix.  359 

u  Saturday  Morning1,  November  23d. 
"Mr  DEA.R  LIZZIE: — Although  I  am  suffering 

O  O 

with  a  fearful  headache  to-day,  yet,  as  your  note 
of  Wednesday  is  received,  I  must  write.  I  am 
grieved  to  find  that  you  are  so  wretchedly  low- 
spirited.  *  *  *  On  Wednesday,  the  20th 
of  Kovember,  K.  sent  me  the  telegram  I  send  you. 
If  he  is  not  in  earnest,  what  does  it  mean  ?  What 
is  the  rate  of  expenses  that  B.  has  gone  to  in  my 
business,  that  he  dares  to  withhold  my  immense 
amount  of  goods  ?  Do  you  believe  they  intend 
sending  out  those  circulars  ?  Of  course  you  will 
be  well  rewarded  if  we  have  any  success,  but  as  to 
$500  f  now,'  I  have  it  not  for  myself,  or  any  one 
else.  Pray,  what  does  B.  propose  to  charge  for 
his  expenses?  I  pray  God  there  will  be  some 
success,  although,  dear  Lizzie,  entirely  between 
ourselves,  I  fear  I  am  in  villanous  hands.  As  to 
money,  I  haven't  it  for  myself  just  now,  even  if 
nothing  comes  in.  When  I  get  my  things  back, 
if  ever,  from ,  I  will  send  you  some  of  those 


360  Appendix. 

dresses  to  dispose  of  at  Washington  for  your  own 
benefit.  If  we  get  something,  you  will  find  that 
promises  and  performance  for  this  life  will  be  forth 
coming.  *  *  It  is  mysterious 
why  B.  NEVER  writes,  and  K.  once,  perhaps,  in 
three  weeks.  All  this  is  very  strange.  * 

"M.  L." 

"CHICAGO,  Sunday,  Nov.  24th. 
"  MY  DEAK  LIZZIE  : — I  wrote  you  on  yesterday 
and  am  aware  it  was  not  a  pleasant  letter,  al 
though  I  wrote  what  I  fear  will  turn  out  to  be 
truths.     It  will  be  two  weeks  to-morrow  since 
the  legally  attested  consent  from  me  was  received 
by  B.  and  K.,  and  yet  names  have  not  been  ob 
tained  for  it,   when   last   heard   from.     * 
However,  we  will  soon  see  for  ourselves.     If  you 
and  I  are  honest  in  our  motives  and  intentions,  it 
is  no  reason  all  the  world  is  so.     * 
If  I  should  gain  nothing  pecuniarily  by  the  loud 
cry  that  has  been  made  over  my  affairs,  it  has 


Appendix.  361 

been  a  losing  game  indeed.    *  * 

And  the  laugh  of  the  world  will  be  against 
me  if  it  turns  out  as  I  now  think;51  there  is 
no  doubt  it  will  be  all  failure.  If  they  had 
issued  those  circulars  when  they  should  have 
done,  before  the  election,  then  it  would  have 
been  all  right.  Alas !  alas !  what  a  mistake  it 
has  all  been  !  I  have  thought  seriously  over  the 
whole  business,  and  know  what  I  am  about.  I 
am  grateful  for  the  sympathy  of  Mr.  F.  Douglass 
and  Mr.  Garnet.  I  see  that  F.  D.  is  advertised 
to  lecture  in  Chicago  some  time  this  winter.  Tell 

O 

him,  for  me,  he  must  call  and  see  me ;  give  him 
my  number.  if  I  had  been  able  to  retain  a 
house,  I  should  have  offered  him  apartments 
when  he  came  to  C. ;  as  it  is,  I  have  to  content 
myself  with  lodgings.  An  ungrateful  country 
this !  I  very  much  fear  the  malignity  of  Seward, 
Weed,  and  R.  will  operate  in  Congress  the  coming 
.winter,  and  that  I  will  be  denounced  there,  with 
their  infamous  and  villanous  falsehoods.  The 


362  Appendix. 

father  of  wickedness  and  lies  will  get  those  men 
when  they  '  pass  away;'  and  such  fiends  as 
they  are,  always  linger  in  this  mortal  sphere. 
The  agitation  of  mind  has  very  much  impaired 
my  health.  *  *  *  *  Why,  why  was 
not  I  taken  when  my  darling  husband  was 
called  from  my  side?  I  have  been  allowed  no 
rest  by  those  who,  in  my  desolation,  should  have 
protected  me.  *  *  How  dearly  I 

should  love  to  see  you  this  very  sad  day.  Never, 
dear  Lizzie,  think  of  my  great  nervousness  the 
night  before  we  parted ;  I  had  been  so  harassed 
with  my  fears. 

"Always  yours, 

"M.  L." 

"  December  26. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — Your  letters  just  received. 
I  have  just  written  to  K.  to  withdraw  the 
C.  Go  to  him  yourself  the  moment  you  receive 
this.  The  idea  of  Congress  doing  anything  is 


Appendix.  363 

ridiculous.     How  much could  effect  if  he 

chose,  through  others.    G-o  to  B.  &  K.  the  moment 
you  receive  this. 

"Yours,  M.  L." 

"  CHICAGO,  December  27. 

"  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — I  wrote  you  a  few  lines  on 
yesterday.  I  have  twice  written  to  Mr.  K.  to 
have  the  C.  stopped.  Go  and  see  him  on 
the  subject.  I  believe  any  more  newspaper 
attacks  would  lay  me  low  *  *  As  in 

fluence  has  passed  away  from  me  with  my  hus 
band,  my  slightest  act  is  misinterpreted.  '  Time 
makes  all  things  right.'  I  am  positively  suffer 
ing  for  a  decent  dress.  I  see  Mr.  A.  and  some 
recent  visitors  eyeing  my  clothing  askance.  * 
Do  send  my  black  merino  dress  to  me  very  soon  ; 
I  must  dress  better  in  the  future.  I  tremble  at 
the  bill  that  B.  &  K.  may  send  me,  I  am  so  illy 
prepared  to  meet  any  expense.  All  my  articles 
not  sold  must  be  sent  to  me.  I  leave  this  place 


364:  Appendix. 

early  in  the  spring ;  had  you  better  not  go  with 
me  and  share  my  fortunes,  for  a  year  or  more? 
*  *  Write. 

"  Yours,  etc.,  M.  L." 

"CLIFTON  HOUSE,  January  12. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIZZIE  : — Your  last  letter  was  re 
ceived  a  day  or  two  since.  I  have  moved  my 
quarters  to  this  house,  so  please  direct  all  your 
letters  here.  Why  did  you  not  urge  them  not  to 
take  my  goods  to  Providence?  For  heaven's 
sake  see  K.  &  B.  when  you  receive  this,  and  have 
them  immediately  returned  to  me,  with  their  bill. 
I  am  so  miserable  I  feel  like  taking  my  own  life. 
My  darling  boy,  my  Taddie  alone,  I  fully  believe? 
prevents  the  deed.  Your  letter  announcing  that 
my  clothes*  were  to  be  paraded  in  Europe: — those 

*  The  clothes  that  I  have  given  for  the  benefit  of  Wilber- 
force  College.  They  have  been  deeded  to  Bishop  Payne,  who 
will  do  with  them  as  he  thinks  best,  for  the  cause  to  which 
they  are  dedicated.  The  letter  on  page  366  will  explain  more 
fully. 


Appendix.  365 

I  gave  you — has  almost  turned  me  wild.  II. 
would  go  raving  distracted  if  such  a  thing  was 
done.  If  you  have  the  least  regard  for  our  reason, 
pray  write  to  the  bishop  that  it  must  not  be  done. 
How  little  did  I  suppose  you  would  do  such  a 
thing;  you  cannot  imagine  how  much  my  over 
whelming  sorrows  would  be  increased.  May  kind 
Heaven  turn  your  heart,  and  have  you  write  that 
this  exhibition  must  not  be  attempted.  R.  would 
blast  us  all  if  you  were  to  have  this  project  car 
ried  out.  Do  remember  us  in  our  unmitigated 
anguish,  and  have  those  clothes,  worn  on  those 
fearful  occasions,  recalled.  *  *  I  am  posi 
tively  dying  with  a  broken  heart,  and  the  proba 
bility  is  that  I  shall  be  living  but  a  very  short 
time.  May  we  all  meet  in  a  better  world,  where 
such  grief  is  unknown.  Write  me  all  about 
yourself.  I  should  like  you  to  have  about  four 
black  widow's  caps,  just  such  as  I  had  made  in 
the  fall  in  New  York,  sent  to  me.  *  *  * 
Of  course  you  would  not  suppose,  if  I  had  you 


366  Appendix. 

come  out  here  and  work  for  me  six  weeks,  I 
would  not  pay  your  expenses  and  pay  you  as  you 
made  each  dress.  The  probability  is  that  I  shall 
needy^io  more  clothes  ;  my  rest,  I  am  inclined  to 
believe,  is  near  at  hand.  Go  to  B.  &  K.,  and 
have  my  clothes  sent  me  without  further  publi 
city.  ~*  *  I  am  feeling  too  wreak  to 
write  more  to-day.  Why  are  you  so  silent  ?  For 
the  sake  of  humanity r,  if  not  me  and  my  children, 
do  not  have  those  black  clothes  displayed  in 
Europe.  The  thought  has  almost  whitened 
every  hair  of  my  head.  Write  when  you  re 
ceive  this. 

"  Your  friend,  M.  L." 

"  NEW  YORK  CITY,  Jau.  1st,  1868. 
"  BISHOP  PAYNE,  D.D.— DEAJR  Sm : — Allow  me 
to  donate  certain  valuable  relics,  to  be  exhibited  for 
the  benefit  of  Wilberforce  University,  where  my 
son  was  educated,  and  whose  life  was  sacrificed 
for  liberty.  These  sacred  relics  wrere  presented 


Appendix.  3G7 

to  me  by  Mrs.  Lincoln,  after  the  assassination  of 
our  beloved  President.  Learning  that  you  were 
struggling  to  get  means  to  complete  the  college 
that  was  burned  on  the  day  our  great  emancipa 
tor  was  assassinated,  prompted  me  to  donate,  in 
trust  to  J.  P.  Ball  (agent  for  Wilberforce  Col 
lege),  the  identical  cloak  and  bonnet  worn  by 
Mrs.  Lincoln  on  that  eventful  night.  On  the 
cloak  can  be  seen  the  life-blood  of  Abraham  Lin 
coln.  This  cloak  could  not  be  purchased  from 
me,  though  many  have  been  the  offers  for  it.  I 
deemed  it  too  sacred  to  sell,  but  donate  it  for 
the  cause  of  educating  the  four  millions  of  slaves 
liberated  by  our  President,  whose  private  character 
I  revere.  You  well  know  that  I  had  every  chance 
to  learn  the  true  man,  being  constantly  in  the 
White  House  during  his  whole  administration. 
I  also  donate  the  glove*  worn  on  his  precious 
hand  at  the  last  inaugural  reception.  This  glove 

*  I  have  since  concluded  to  retain  the  glove  as  a  precious 
touvenir  of  our  beloved  President. 


368  Appendix. 

bears  the  marks  of  thousands  who  shook  his  hand 
on  that  last  and  great  occasion.  This,  and  many 
other  relics,  I  hope  you  will  receive  in  the  name 
of  the  Lincoln  fund.  I  also  donate  the  dress 
worn  by  Mrs.  Lincoln  at  the  last  inaugural  ad 
dress  of  President  Lincoln.  Please  receive  these 
from —  Your  sister  in  Christ, 

"L.  KECKLEY." 

"  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  Jan.  15,  1868. 
"  MY  PEAK  LIZZIE  : — You  will  think  I  arn  send 
ing  you  a  deluge  of  letter^.  I  am  so  very  sad  to 
day,  that  I  feel  that  I  must  write  you.  I  went 
out  last  evening  with  Tad,  on  a  little  business,  in 
a  street  car,  heavily  veiled,  very  imprudently 
having  my  month's  living  in  my  pocket-book — 
and,  on  return,  found  it  gone.  The  loss^I  de 
serve  for  being  so  careless,  but  it  comes  very 
hard  on  poor  me.  Troubles  and  misfortunes  are 
fast  overwhelming  me ;  may  the  end  soon  come. 
I  lost  $82,  and  quite  a  new  pocket-book.  I  am 


Appendix.  3C9 

very,  very  anxious  about  that  bill  B.  &  K.  may 
bring  in.  Do  go,  dear  Lizzie,  and  implore  them 
to  be  moderate,  for  I  am  in  a  very  narrow  place. 
Tell  them,  I  pray  you,  of  this  last  loss.  As  they 
have  not  been  successful  (BETWEEN  OURSELVES), 
and  only  given  me  great  sorrow  and  trouble,  I 
think  their  demand  should  be  very  small.  (Do 
not  mention  this  to  them.)  Do,  dear  Lizzie,  go 
to  609,  and  talk  to  them  on  this  subject.  Let  my 
things  be  sent  to  me  immediately,  and  do  see  to 
it,  that  nothing  is  left  behind.  I  can  afford  to 
lose  nothing  they  have  had  placed  in  their  hands. 
I  am  literally  suffering  for  my  black  dress.  Will 
you  send  it  to  me  when  you  receive  this  ?  I  am 
looking  very  shabby.  I  hope  you  have  entirely 
recovered.  Write  when  you  receive  this. 

"  Very  truly  yours,  M.  L." 

"CHICAGO,  Feb.  7. 

"  MR.  BRADY  : — I  hereby  authorize  Mrs.  Keek- 
ley  to  request  my  bill  from  you ;  also  my  goods. 
16* 


370  Appendix. 

An  exact  account  must  be  given  of  everything, 
and  all  goods  unsold  returned  to  me.     Pray  hand 
Mrs.  Keckley  my  bill,  without  fail,  immediately. 
"  Kespectfully, 

.  LINCOLN." 


"  SATURDAY,  Feb.  29. 

"  DEAR  LIZZIE  :  —  I  am  only  able  to  sit  up  long 
enough  to  write  you  a  line  and  enclose  this  check 
to  Mr.  K.  Give  it  to  him  when  he  gives  you  up 
my  goods,  and  require  from  him  an  exact  inven 
tory  of  them.  I  will  write  you  to-morrow.  The 
hour  you  receive  this  go  to  him,  get  my  goods, 
and  do  not  give  him  the  check  until  you  get  the 
goods,  and  be  sure  you  get  a  receipt  for  the 
check  from  him.  *  *  In  his  account  given  ten 
days  since,  he  said  we  had  borrowed  $807  ;  now 
he  writes  for  $820.  Ask  him  what  this  means, 
and  get  him  to  deduct  the  $13.  I  cannot  under 
stand  it.  A  letter  received  from  K.  this  morning 
says  if  the  check  is  not  received  the  first  of  the 


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COUNTRY  LOVE  vs.  CITY  FLIRTATION. — A  capital  new  Society  tale, 
with  20  superb  illustrations  by  Hoppin.  i2mo.  cloth,  $2.oc 


8  BOOKS  PUBLISHED  BY  G.  W.  CARLETON  &  CO. 

Miscellaneous  "Works. 

MARY  BRANDEGEE. — A  novel  by  Cuyler  Pine.      .      I2mo.  $1.75 

RENSHAWE. —                    do.                do.             '."'  do.  $1.75 

THE  siiENANDOAn. — History  of  the  Conf.  steamer.  do.  $1.50 

MEMORIALS  OF  JUNTOS  BRUTUS  BOOTH. — (The  Elder.)  do.  $1.50 

MOUNT  CALVARY. — By  Matthew  Hale  Smith.      .  do.  $2.00 

THE  HUMBUGS  OF  THE  WORLD. — By  P.  T.  Barnum.  do.  $1.75 

LOVE-LIFE  OF  DR.  E.  K.  KANE  AND  MARGARET  FOX.  do.  $1.75 

BALLADS. — By  the  author  of  "  Barbara's  History."  do.  $1.50 

STORMCLIFF. — A  novel  by  M.  T.  Wai  worth.        .  do.  $1.75 

MAN,  and  the  Conditions  that  Surround  Him.    .  do.  $1.75 

PROMETHEUS  IN  ATLANTIS. A    prophecy.       .             .  do.  $2.OO 

TITAN  AGONISTES. — An  American  novel.      .         .  do.  $2.00 

THE  PAPACY  EXPOSED. — Introduction  by  Bishop  Coxe.  do.  $1-75 

PULPIT  PUNGENCIES. — Witticisms  from  the  Pulpit.  do.  $1.75 

CHOLERA. — A  handbook  on  its  treatment  and  cure.  do.  $1.00 

WHO  GOES  THERE  ? — By  u  Sentinel,"  of  the  "  World."  do.  $1.50 

ALICE  OF  MONMOUTH. — By  Edmund  C.  Stedman.  do.  $1.25 

LYRICS  AND  IDYLLS. do.                           do.  do.  $1-25 

NOTES  ON  SHAKSPEARE. — By  Jas.  H.  Hackett      .  do.  $1.50 

THE  MONTANAS. —  A  novel  by  Mrs.  S.  J.  Hancock,  do.  $1.75 

PASTIMES  WITH  LITTLE  FRIENDS. — Martha  H.  Butt.  do.  $1.50 

A  SPINSTER'S  STORY. — A  new  American  novel.     .  do.  $1.75 

A  LIFE  OF  JAMES  STEPHENS. — Fenian  Head-Centre,  do.  $1.00 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  NEW  ENGLAND  FARM-HOUSE. do.  $l'7$ 

TOGETHER. — A  new  American  novel.           .         .  do.  $1-50 

POEMS. — By  Gay  H.  Naramore.          .         .         .  do.  $1.50 

GOMKRY  OF  MONTGOMERY. By  C.    A.  Washbum.  do.  $2.OO 

POEMS.— By  Mrs.  Sarah  T.  Bolton.     ...  do.  $1.50 

JOHN  GUILDERSTRING'S  SIN. — A  new  novel.           .  do.  $1.50 

CENTEOLA. — By  author  "Green  Mountain  Boys."  do.  $1.50 

RED  TAPE  AND  PIGEON-HOLE  GENERALS. .            .  do.  $1-5^ 

TREATISE  ON  DEAFNESS.— By  Dr.  E.  B.  Lighthill.  do.  $1.50 

AROUND  THE  PYRAMIDS. — By  Gen.  Aaron  Ward.  do.  $1.50 

CHINA  AND  THE  CHINESE. — By  W.  L.  G.  Smith.    .  do.  $1-50 

EDGAR  POE  AND  HIS  CRITICS. — By  Mrs.  Whitman.  do.  $1.00 

MARRIED  OFF. — An  Illustrated  Satirical  Poem.  do.  50  cts. 

THE  RUSSIAN  BALL. do.       do.     do.  do.  50  CtS. 

THE  SNOBLACE  BALL. do.       do.     do.  do.  50  CtS. 

THE  CITY'S  HEART. —         do.            do.         do.  do.  $1.00 

POEMS. — By  Mrs.  Virginia  Quarles.             .         .  do.  $1.00 

A.N  ANSWER  TO  HUGH  MILLER. By  T.  A.   DavieS.  do.  $1.50 

COSMOGONY. — By  Thomas  A.  Davies.          .         .  8vo.  $2.00 

FREE  GOVERNMENT  IN  ENGLAND  AND  AMERICA. .  do.  $j.OO 

RURAL  ARCHITECTURE. — By  M.  Field.     Illustrated,  do.  $2.00 


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